{Through October 20th, read, leave comment below [all comments moderated] and one of you will get a free copy of "Misfits of Love".}
October has been a hard month for me, very hard. There is such a juxtaposition of beauty and melancholia in autumn. I've always felt that way about it, even as a child. It's a beginning, but also an end - summer leaves and school starts; teenagers fly off and mothers regroup; leaves die but the dirt is nourished; winter is felt in the air but the sun still warms the face.
October is a "reminder" month for me in many ways. It is the month of many birthday's - my late father's, my old One Eyed Pug who died in April, and friends from back home who I miss. It is the first October that I have no trip planned to be with my mother who died in April. Reality has firmly set in.
It is the beginning of a holiday season that will be harder than usual this year for me. But I am working, I am moving forward and I'm looking at ways to avoid falling into a hole. So many things are shifting around me - and that is as it should be. One can't be static, I don't expect that. But shifts bring discomfort and nostalgia that the past was more serene, even though we know it wasn't. Shifts also bring growth and new challenges, new perspectives and vistas leaving one refreshed or inspired to create something brand new that would have been unthinkable before the shift occurred.
I've been on the farm almost ten years. Hard to believe, really. I think of all the animals that have come and gone, and all the fencing projects that came with it!
Three years ago a small little imp rolled into my life unexpectedly as I was driving down a rural highway. Wet and bone thin, it was a miracle the oncoming truck didn't hit her, but when I pulled over to see if I could catch her, she sat quietly on the edge of that road, cars passing by, and she squeaked once. I really did not want another house cat. And a kitten to boot. I took her to my nearby vet wondering if they might take her in, but they were full up. So I drove her home, all the time thinking of how I could manage her in the house with two other cats, and two dogs. I knew the barn cat colony would be rough on her, and she was so tiny - only one pound and skin and bones. I figured Martyn would not be too pleased. But he took one look at her and said,
"Well of course you had to bring her home."
From that moment on that cat bonded with him. To this day, she adores Martyn, and gets under the covers with him, still letting out her tiny itty bitty squeak, just like the day I found her. We get such amusement from her. She adds to the household.
So I wasn't expecting her, nor was I seeking her. But she came into my life and made it better somehow. She added to it. I am going to hold onto that thought as I go through these melancholy times. There are unexpected encounters lurking right around the corner. Who knows what they will bring into my life?
Happy three year anniversary, Itty Bitty Etta. One second earlier or later on the road, we wouldn't have met. How important the timing of a day can be, not one second can be taken for granted, no matter what state of mind one is in.
See more of Itty Bittty Etta.
