Hello dear readers,
Autumn is really setting in here. When I look out my window, I see the far mountain range above the treetops; it seems as though the leaves turned all at once, amber rivers running through the pines.
It’s Monday, and while I had planned on getting some work done this morning, I woke up feeling off (my own bland way of saying absolutely horrendous). This time of year is hard for me—a close friend, more like a family member, died suddenly a few years back in early November—and so I try my best to be especially gentle with myself in-mid autumn.
So, rather than making myself work through these feelings, I spent a few hours out of the house. I’d been meaning to visit a bookshop in a nearby town, and after that, I ended up in Fort Langley. The only thing I bought was chocolate—a large dark ginger cream, plus a few smaller fudge truffles—but on my way out I got myself a cherry chocolate croissant and a mocha for the road. The croissant was transcendent, even if it was the messiest thing I’ve ever eaten.
I took the backroads home along the river so I could drive through the changing leaves, and let me tell you, this did more for my mood than anything else could have today. Before my friend’s death, this was always my favourite time of year. And while it still is—and I find joy in all parts of it—it’s still a rough time. Autumn was his favourite season, too, so it’s a balance of loving the changing leaves and pumpkins and storms, while wishing he was still here to enjoy them with me.
While I was driving, the sky was split on both sides of me: on my left, over the river, the clouds were nearly black, and I found myself wanting to drive toward them, to see just how much rain would come down. But home was to the right, where the sky was bright blue, just thin white clouds across it. And so I turned toward home, toward the light. I know there’s a metaphor here but I’m too tired to put it into words right now.
Off the back roads, I found myself in town, where I bought pollyfill at Michaels. I’ve been wanting to learn to knit chickens for a long time, and I finally did it! Over the weekend, I figured out how to do a simple pattern; I used some yarn called apple spice, which is a beautiful dark red with bits of navy, turquoise, purple, and gold.
Now I’m home, slippers on and kettle boiling on the stove. Franklin is sitting directly in front of me, making it a challenge to type, after ten minutes of nuzzling my face. Cats truly are the smartest creatures, and we’re so lucky to have them.
Anyway: the rest of the afternoon will be writing my next newsletter, working on my novel, (potentially) stuffing my chicken, and trying to be kind to myself. I keep reminding myself that it’s okay to be sad, though there’s another part of me wondering how many more years I’ll feel like this.
I hope your Monday is going well, and that the week is kind to you too.
—Catherine
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, you may also like my newsletter, where I write about life, art, culture, gardening, and all things whimsical and weird. You may also want to check out my bluesky, where I post all sorts of photos (mostly cats and plants), as well as ramblings about everything from books and writing to knitting and dreaming.
Like this post and want to see more? Type your email into the space above to receive updates when new blog posts are added, head over to the blog’s main page, or click the “next” or “previous” buttons below.
Home | About | My Books | Publications | Newsletter | Contact
Leave a Reply