WindChill of Shadow
Nov. 3rd, 2020 10:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoSunday night I had a really creepy dream that caused me to be awake and have to turn the light on. So, Monday when the daylight came, I felt tired and grumpy. But it was a bright, cold day, and it was All Souls. We drove out west of town to the graveyard where the Sparrowhawk's paternal grandparents are buried. It's a big graveyard, like a big park with a few trees and stones scattered about, and lots of winding drives going here and there through it. It's pleasant in a lonely kind of way, a wide space where I felt I could breathe freely. The different sections have kind of weird names, some of them pleasant like "Garden of Peace," and some a bit intimidating, like "Garden of the 10 Commandments," which is where they are in fact buried. Although we knew which section they were in, we hadn't been there in awhile and had forgotten exactly where they were. We wandered about for awhile, brushing the fallen leaves off grave markers so we could read the names. Finally we found the modest brass name plates set into the ground: Charles and Mary. Nearby, a larger marker showed the resting place of the Sparrowhawk's step-grandparents, Mary and Fred. People had basic names back then. I bent down and pulled away the grass that was starting to hide Mary's name, and cleaned off the letters as best I could with a hankie I had in my pocket. We said a prayer for Charles and Fred and the two Marys, and all our beloved dead, some of whom are too far away to visit. On the way back to the car, I picked up the artificial flower arrangements that had blown away in the wind, and put them back to the best of my ability.
On the way home, we saw a roadside orchard stand. We pulled over and bought a bag of Northern Spies. I was miffed when the seller said they were "not a pretty apple." What th'! They're pretty to ME. I love their streaky green and red, and their characteristic broad-shouldered, lumpy shape and tart, spicy flavor. Maybe because they remind me of me--ha. I should resemble a Northern Spy--I've eaten enough of them. I told her they were pretty enough when they were baked up into something yummy. She said that few orchards grow them any more, because they are a big tree. The trend now is to plant small trees with greater density. She said her orchard used to grow Winesaps and Wealthy, but not any more. I decided to regard the apples as a gift from the elders. It made me miss my parents more, because that was exactly the kind of day they would have loved to hear about if I could have written to them about it in a letter. Then they would have gone off on a long discussion of where everyone was buried, and it would all have been very satisfactory to them.
Last night I just left the light on so I wouldn't have scary dreams. About 5, I woke up, and it seemed close enough to morning that I turned it off, and at that point, the dark was comfortable. We slept a little late, and pulled ourselves together in time to walk to the polling place at the Orthodox Church around 10:30. They were all set up for a big crowd, and said they'd had one just before we came. But we had timed it perfectly, and there were only a dozen people in the room--just enough to fill the voting booths. If I recall correctly, we were voters 246 and 247. It was a piece of cake. Then we walked home happily in the gorgeous sunny day. It was warm enough to sit out in the back yard. It was impossible to feel gloomy on such a lovely day, so I'm hoping for the best. I made nachos for dinner, and they were pretty tasty, with two kinds of salsa and a lot of salad. We might stay up a little later to see whatever news there is, but we're not going to stay up into the wee hours as we used to. There's no point! Might as well get some sleep.
On the way home, we saw a roadside orchard stand. We pulled over and bought a bag of Northern Spies. I was miffed when the seller said they were "not a pretty apple." What th'! They're pretty to ME. I love their streaky green and red, and their characteristic broad-shouldered, lumpy shape and tart, spicy flavor. Maybe because they remind me of me--ha. I should resemble a Northern Spy--I've eaten enough of them. I told her they were pretty enough when they were baked up into something yummy. She said that few orchards grow them any more, because they are a big tree. The trend now is to plant small trees with greater density. She said her orchard used to grow Winesaps and Wealthy, but not any more. I decided to regard the apples as a gift from the elders. It made me miss my parents more, because that was exactly the kind of day they would have loved to hear about if I could have written to them about it in a letter. Then they would have gone off on a long discussion of where everyone was buried, and it would all have been very satisfactory to them.
Last night I just left the light on so I wouldn't have scary dreams. About 5, I woke up, and it seemed close enough to morning that I turned it off, and at that point, the dark was comfortable. We slept a little late, and pulled ourselves together in time to walk to the polling place at the Orthodox Church around 10:30. They were all set up for a big crowd, and said they'd had one just before we came. But we had timed it perfectly, and there were only a dozen people in the room--just enough to fill the voting booths. If I recall correctly, we were voters 246 and 247. It was a piece of cake. Then we walked home happily in the gorgeous sunny day. It was warm enough to sit out in the back yard. It was impossible to feel gloomy on such a lovely day, so I'm hoping for the best. I made nachos for dinner, and they were pretty tasty, with two kinds of salsa and a lot of salad. We might stay up a little later to see whatever news there is, but we're not going to stay up into the wee hours as we used to. There's no point! Might as well get some sleep.
