November Hill farm journal, 224

 

We are having really beautiful weather on November Hill, with days ranging from the 60s into upper 70s and nights in the low-mid 40s. And no rain for a couple of weeks, which is kind of nice but probably not something we want to go on for too much longer.

This millipede curled up in the night and I happened upon him one morning. The symmetry is so pleasing to the eye, and the tiny legs look like embroidery thread to me. 

We have leaves falling and fall plants still in bloom. Three pumpkins on the driveway ledge. A new native plant bed in progress as I move volunteers from odd spaces. The herd is happy and on day-time turn-out now. 

The honey bees are moving toward their winter mode, but still have plenty of forage and days warm enough to go get it. 

The North Carolina Botanical Garden opened up a virtual session for one of the core classes I need to complete my advanced native plant studies certificate program, but I missed the registration and it filled instantly. I did get on the waiting list though and just learned I’ve been moved into the class, so yay! I’m happy to have this class to focus on in November. 

I am doing some weeding each day, some barn and horse time each day, and trying to get back to my daily yoga here at home. This past weekend was my writing weekend via Zoom and it energized me to moving forward with a submission and led me back into one of the novels-in-progress. 

Time with family, precious grandchildren, and a season away from the very hard summer are all welcome this week as I move toward my mother’s 92nd birthday and to the one year anniversary of Keil Bay’s passing. 

It’s a tender week but I feel strong. Though I did something to my lower back last week and it’s on again, off again aching. It just occurred to me that the lower back is my base of support. It is understandably tired from holding up so much emotion through a season of pain and horror at what humans are capable of when not self-aware and not mentally stable. 

I haven’t talked about it here but my mom has dementia and part of the difficulty of the summer was not being able to talk to her about what was going on. And not having Keil Bay physically present was also hard. I think the focus of fall this year is honoring the sense of loss of my own personal supports during a time when I needed them. And also honoring my ability to keep going even without them being there for me the way I was used to. And to take care of my very tired back! Yoga with Adriene here I come!

When I look at the millipede, I see a long vulnerable body curled up tight, stronger and safer in its form. I’ll be doing my own version of that curling up when I need to, and thinking how we can be both safe and tightly furled while also symmetrical and beautiful.