When the Frost is on the Punkin

Well the frost has certainly been in the air, if not on the pumpkin.

Andy has been chopping some kindling so we can....

....get our wood stove all fired up.  This stove will be our primary source of heat through the long, cold, wet, rainy winter days/nights.   (That sentences sounds so pathetic... long, cold, wet, rainy, dreary; I'm sure we will spend our days wrapped in blankets shivering by the fire, listening to the wind howl and rain swirl around the house.)  Anyways, I digress...

 

 I think it is such a cheery fire and it has sure been warm the last few mornings when Andy has started it.

 

Carson has enjoyed warming himself by the fire, sipping hot chocolate, and listening to "Autumn in New England"  (my all-time favorite c.d.)

Here's a little piece of poetry for you by James Whitcomb Riley.

Our view from the backyard.

They’s something kindo’ harty-like about the atmusfere

When the heat of summer’s over and the coolin’ fall is here—

 

 

Another view from the backyard.

 

Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossums on the trees,

And the mumble of the hummin’-birds and buzzin’ of the bees;

 

 

Glorious sunshine as viewed from our backyard.

 

But the air’s so appetizin’; and the landscape through the haze

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days

Is a pictur’ that no painter has the colorin’ to mock—

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder’s in the shock.

God's pumpkin...we didn't plant it, but have so enjoyed watching it grow.