I just brought in the mail and there was an envelope marked “fragile” from my Mom. I smiled having suspicions as to the contents. No jewelry or baubles. No books or puzzles. No photographs. The envelope simply contained Fall, or as some may say, Autumn. I had mentioned to her she hadn’t sent me my Fall gift in some time. Since my Dad’s passing things haven’t been easy for her. She has all us kids proud that she is doing so well, being 80 and now alone, but things do slip her mind. A couple tears sprang to my eyes as I gently lifted out the dried leaves she’d so carefully sent to her Florida girl. Their colors took me back to the simple childhood pleasure of raking huge piles of leaves. We had to jump into them before bagging and dragging to the street. I miss the change of seasons still, though I’ve been gone a long time. Thank you Mom, for the little bit of back home.
There are a couple sure-fire ways to know Fall is here, though our high temperatures don’t reflect it. One is the fuzzy coats the girls seem to grow overnight.
The other is the dreaded sticky weeds!
Becca is a pro at finding every single clump of sticky weeds in the pasture.
I find her this way about every other day!
She’s usually well-behaved as I toil to comb them out.
They cling to not only her forelock, but her mane, her legs, her face, her belly, her neck. The worst part is, once I comb them off her, they’ve attached onto me! It’s really rather ridiculous. Her mother will come in and not have a single one on her. I don’t get it. At least she cleans up rather nice, don’t you think? And I have my leaves to remind me of simpler times.