Oh the gloriousness of these Moroccan bedrooms; especially the beautiful wedding blankets. Can't you just imagine the light hitting each sparkle? I would be happy to wake up in one of these rooms on any morning.

This weekend was spent in my little garden; phase one of the fall clean-up and I have been seriously attacking gout weed and lemon balm.

What can I say about this weekend? A very welcomed connection, a connection of sorts. Learning more about me all the time. Opening up and feeling free.



The weather has been so perfect, just like September is supposed to be. Last night I lit a fire outside in the "fireplace". Peaceful. Knitting today and thinking of projects to come today in the warmth of the afternoon sun.



I am feeling very happy and special and a little bit scared all at the same time. Would you say I'm alive? Am I twisted like this corkscrew hazel tree of mine?

I'm happy this morning despite the phones which are frantic. I found these beautiful images on one of my favourite blogs "An Indian Summer". I immediately wanted to get out my pencils and splash these images with vibrant colours. I think I will do just that, when I can do so peacefully (translated: after work). The Autumn issue of Cath Kidston arrived this morning. I will need time to devour this one..such beautiful photos, gorgeous clothes. I am not a fashionist - far from it - but I do love fashion as an artform. http://www.cathkidston.co.uk/

Saturday afternoon...playing with the camera...still lots for me to learn with the new camera even though is it point-and-shoot....farmer's market in the morning...a drive in the country...delicious supper....re-doing the heel of Sab's knee socks *grrr*.... in the evening, on the swing alone in the cool twilight...peaceful, especially as the hornets and wasps have all gone to bed! . A nice day really.

How did you spend your day? If you drop by....feel free to say hello.

Autumn

My favourite season....I like the sound of your name.....and oh the glorious colour!

Yup, I do repeat myself over and over again. Am I getting senile or is it because I feel that no one listens to me? I think it's the latter. So you all know I love autumn and TIFF, I will try and shut up about it now.

Longing

by Sara Teasdale

I am not sorry for my soul

That it must go unsatisfied,

For it can live a thousand times,

Eternity is deep and wide.

I am not sorry for my soul,

But oh, my body that must go

Back to a little drift of dust

Without the joy it longed to know.

Sara Teasdale was born on Aug. 8, 1884, in St. Louis, Missouri. Her parents, John and Mary Elizabeth, tutored their shy and reserved daughter at home until she turned nine years old, at which point she entered a private school. While she attended the school, she began writing poems, one of which appeared Reedy's Mirror, a local literary publication, in 1907. That same year, her first collection of poems, Sonnets to Duse and Other Poems, was published.