Boots, pear, stick, leaf falling

November is very different from October, and from December. It is it's own thing. Of course, it's got Thanksgiving, and we'll get to that. Lots of side dishes and table settings and wine glasses. Can never get enough of those. Turkeys and Turkey Trots, and family.

But I'm finding the waiting, the stillness, the anticipation, very nice. We are about to be. All sorts of things. All sorts of places, moods.

For now, we are here. November. Raking. Curling up. Wading through the daily routine. No special meals to be made, yet, except for every ordinary one, which is special just because. Nothing to be wrapped yet. Too soon to feel like we should be doing something else, getting ready.

I'm liking it. Hope you are taking a breath now, too. Thanks for reading.

tt