"Moooooom!  There's deer out back!" 

"Where??"

"Coming up over the hill!"

"Don't tap the glass.  Don't let the dogs out!"  

"I can't see.  MOM! Tell her I can't see!" 

Can you see?  We have to peek out the window and through the railing or they will hear us and make a run for it.  So many this visit!  I think we counted eight before they split up and wandered off.  And – baby trailing behind! Better than tv any morning.  

The days leading up to Thanksgiving were all over the map. We knew we wouldn't have everyone here. That didn't really bother me since that's more the norm these past years than not.  It didn't bother me that much anyway.  Not right at first.  As the day approached that began to change. 

We had begun an ambitious reflooring project and my husband took days off work to finish before Thanksgiving.  Once the carpet came up however we decided we should have a contractor assess the concrete before we moved on.  That meant finishing before the holiday was no longer ambitious, it was impossible. Meantime the entire schoolroom and family room were disassembled and packed tightly in other rooms. 

The day before Thanksgiving we were reading from our autumn reading list and doing some cooking ahead.  My husband had cancelled his working vacation days and we were just focusing on a nice, if cozy, weekend.  The phone rang with an unknown number.  Since one daughter was traveling I answered.  It was the social worker who handled my mother's hospice case. I am sure he was just closing out his files before the long weekend but man.  That was really rotten timing.  Grief is like that I think.  You coast along and then something will bring you right back to that place again. 

I struggled a bit to get my bearings again afterwards.  There was a deep rumble in the sky outside and snow began to fall.  I left the kitchen prep for morning and called it a night. That was an excellent idea.  Years ago an older mom advised me to try hard not to think about any big difficult things at the end of the day.  No matter what it is, she said, it will always look worst then.  Somehow in the morning it will go better.  

She was right. She has always been right about that. The sun rose in a bright blue sky and shone down on fresh fallen snow. Our daughter and fiance texted that they made their flight fine and were on their way.  The tension from the previous weeks lifted and all I cared about was sitting around our table with as many of our kids as we were blessed to have with us.  

Before you knew it there they were, squeezed on the couch with their faraway sister again. 

The over here sister got up early and made pies. 

From their spot near the window the little girls noticed deer across the street

This year's favorite was the cinnamon roll apple pie fwiw. 

A wonderful new friend was able to join us for dinner.  We skyped with the Colorado kids who were making their first Thanksgiving dinner together. We played with silly snapchat apps and then stayed up watching You've Got Mail.  Because Meg Ryan and children's books and daisies, right?  The verdict came in.  The floor is sound and we can press on with the project.  Huge blessing.

Not all the news that comes across my desk or through my phone is good, some of it tries to worry the joy right out of me. Most of that will never make these pages.  Still there is always an awful lot to be thankful for and so much of that is looking back at me across the table.  

Things have come together for my husband after some weeks of research. He had been looking for sources of local, preferably grass-fed meat for our family as well as a new (to us) freezer. After calling too late for a few listings we were able to pick up a freezer from a very nice older couple who no longer needed it.  Then we drove down to the farm to pick up our orders. 

We were able to visit some of the heritage cattle they breed.  They had a smattering of dairy and beef animals on the property. I had never seen the corriente cattle they are raising. 

Longtime readers will know how this brought back so many memories. I started telling this story of our life on a similar open sky prairie a decade ago. It is a little weird being on the other side of the fence – the urban visitor picking up orders and showing the kids the animals.  I'm at peace though, knowing we are where we are supposed to be right now.  I feel grateful to be able to partner with people who are working hard making a life and a living off the land and blessing others with the fruit of their labor.  

Eight trips 'round the sun and a few trips partway around this big globe we walk on. Five houses she has called home, as well as many short term rentals.  Her feet have splashed in the ocean and stood on mountains. She has danced into the night at her brother's wedding and buried her grandmother and nestled her head into the curly coat of her puppy.  She's had more life than people many times her age.  She approaches it all with this air of serenity – curious, observant, fearless. 

Happy blessed birthday.

It's been a while since I have done a share of what we are reading and watching so I am officially typing out my notes right now.  

I have begun the third and last volume of Kristin Lavransdatter.  There are days I don't know if my heart will make it through this journey.  It made me feel better to hear that this is a perfectly appropriate response to Kristin.  This reading guide nails the experience and gives some good suggestions for further reading.  We are rabbit trailing into Scandanavian lit in general since my head is firmly in Norway.  D'aulaire's Norse Myths (which the girls say is "a little creepy" what with six headed jotuns springing to life out of a guy's armpit and all.) is underway.  We have read from Undset's True and Untrue. The forward about the folk/fairy tale genre is excellent for high schooler's to read through.  

Several houses in our area are decked out for Christmas already.  Over here we are in full Thanksgiving mode. We will not be rushed. Put away those candy canes.   I have not even eaten my first pumpkin pie of the season.  But since I know we all need to start ordering or reserving advent and Christmas titles I have brought the booklists back to the sidebar along with what we have read through so far this fall.

And art?  So much art going on.  If you are looking for autumn and winter art lessons there are enough projects here to keep us painting and creating for weeks.  Months really.  We are trying to do just that. This is not a seasonal project but one Tess finished this month.  Not an original design but sketched out by hand from a print she admired. 

I found this story on the Kindex feed the other day.  It's a fascinating story of a man who was a bit of an enigma even to his own family.  After his death they found these.  There.  That was my shot at a click bait entry.  Did it work?  Tell me you clicked because it's actually a great story.  

Another notebook story.  This one was from a 21yo WWII soldier who kept a sketchbook with notes.  Soldiers have been on my mind all week since we went to see Hacksaw Ridge.  Or rather my husband saw Hacksaw Ridge.  I saw a good deal of his shoulder.  It was a an incredible story but exceptionally realistic special effects. My friend Teri shared a story about her uncle who was buried under his fallen comrades in WWII shortly after we went on the movie date.  Then came the news about the green berets and the Bagram attack.  So long way of saying this was a unique insight into a soldier's mind and heart and I have been thinking about both.  

My friend Theresa shared a story about a fluke exchange she had while playing a game online. Makes you think. Here. 

More upbeat, this project amazed me.  A photographer tracked down people he took pictures of on British streets in the 80's and recreated those images with them today.  So cool.  

That's all for now.  More to follow!

Telling stories out of order again.  It's a weakness of mine. We have now wrapped up football but up until the last two weeks this is usually where we were at the end of a week.  Looking at the pictures brings it all back so vividly for me.  The cheerleaders' chants, the shouting from the stands, our girls hanging out on the sidelines, reading and talking and people watching. Though I am glad to catch our breath now and move on to new projects it was a wonderful way to spend our autumn afternoons.  

The boys really loved having their big brother drive over the mountain for a few days to see them play and get in on the armchair quarterback action. 

I'm serious.  The men in this family are at the ready to advise referees, analyze plays, and debate technique.  

Toldja.

Piano Tiles, Grimms tales, and 50 Famous Stories have been standby's if you are wondering.  (and sometimes people ask about my phone case here.  I heart you England.) 

They played hard. One got as far as the semifinals.  Now we are preparing for the end of season banquets and it will be all wrapped up for 2016. It's been a good run.

As we reach for our sweaters today I remember a sunny afternoon in Washington this summer.  We were invited to visit a friends' homestead full of different varieties of goats and fowl and flowers.  You should never turn down an offer like that.  Though life has taken us on and off the farm over the years my heart remains on a homestead.  I wish I could show you all the creative touches around every corner. 

No surprise here – I was hanging out with the goats.  Meantime the girls were so very excited to see horses again. 

"Farmgirl is a state of the heart." – Mary Jane Butters

"Learn to love the world and to no longer compare it with some kind of desired imaginary world, some imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and to belong to it."

Henry Miller

Oh how I love their expressions as they watched to see if she was successful. 

 "I can’t be the only one. I can’t be the only one who has these moments when I consider how I spend my days, reflecting on the poetry, art, literature, and music that I immerse myself in and ask, what is the point of all this anyway? 

Don’t get me wrong! I love what I do…….  But there are moments that come at unexpected times. Moments when I think, sure I love this stuff. But is my love of it enough to give it value? Is my love of it enough to justify crafting an entire education and a life around that love? I mean, I’m not curing cancer here." 

So begins Angela Stanford's reflection on why we do what we do: cultivating an artful life, spreading beauty, sharing inspiring words.  Is there a point?   In a dark and increasingly deadly world does any of this really make a difference or is this just 'fluff' as one woman said to me some years ago. 

Stanford goes on to share how a friend helped to answer that question for her here.

This isn't fluff, this is the stuff that makes life worth living.