October Morning

Happy October 1st…it’s appropriately chilly this morning with a dampness in the air that the mums love!  Last week Dad and I attended the Carver Memorial Library fund raiser at the Carriage House Inn in Searsport.  In addition to a wine tasting (or maybe it was a very well-thought-out conjunction) there was a silent auction and I’m the happy possessor of two gift certificates…one from the Shamrock Thistle and Rose and the other at the Cottage Garden…both in Belfast and both filled with items that I covet and rarely indulge in.  Now I must decide between immediate gratification with a quick trip or do I hold on until I really need a retail therapy fix?  Approached from another angle, if I buy a certificate at a fund raiser and then wait until the after Christmas sales to find a real bargain…does that make me a real cheapskate?  In a big town that sort of thing doesn’t matter but when you know every other person who walks down the side walk, gossip and judgments spread quickly…oh the dilemmas of my life!

We’re continuing the slow close down process.  This weekend Steve got the back picnic tables stacked to protect them from the snow and the guys have started moving things around in the garage to give them space to store all of the lawn care attachments once they’ve been cleaned and greased.  My job this week is to clean up the playground toys, check all the vintage Tonka trucks for sharp edges and sort through the dress up cloths to see what needs replacing and what will stand a simple laundering.

Although we’re still open through next Monday, our current guests show little interest in the playthings that are so popular in the summertime so what we put away now don’t affect their pleasure.  The highlight of these weeks are the paths embroidered by golden pine needles and the gorgeous blue bay with the red maples in the distance…if only I could paint a picture!

I’ve been grabbing hours in the sun to spin for my new vest (a circular version from Elaine Eskesine’s new book, Silk Knits) and needle felting leaves on an old blanket for a couple of fresh floor cushions.  If you’re into all things fibery than the piles I’ve made in the rec hall are perfectly logical but if you consider wool just another form of pet hair, then I’ve really got a mess to be contended with…someday when I have my fiber studio maybe I can make a clear separation of the two worlds, until then, everyone is just going to have to share with me.

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