November

and that season begins

a time for gathering, for thankfullness, for 

warm toes and frosty noses, for hearty soups and sweet smelling pies, for fireside chats and poking logs, and finding hidden faces in the shadows. for coats and crispy cruchy leafs afoot, for cinnamon scented packages and garlands on the mantle

toasty scarf awaiting toasty leggings

one of my favorite seasons in spite of lesser daylight. 

the colors

the bounty

the rituals

jason, victoria, ollie and ozzie visiting from costa rica

what started out early this afternoon as a highly inspired blogpost, has turned into a humbling experience since three minutes ago i pressed return and everything i had written VANISHED! my few free moments to share with you before my trip to oaxaca next monday, gone with a single click.

i will try to remember a three line poem i had written and summarize what little i can remember of the rest and summarily include a few photos as i get over the blood boiling in my veins and my anger at blogger for allowing that after i carefully saved over and over again.

a new leaf,

the good earth's

green heartbeat

what i was so happy to share and had written out so eloquently before is that i woke up to 

new sprouting leaves on the first plant i ever bought when i moved back to california in 1999, a plant that has

moved with me numerous times, always a survivor, a fighter, a symbol of every change in my life.  

and then i stepped out into the garden and the cecile brunner climbing rose had but one tiny pink rose on it, the first since we moved three weeks ago. 

what i was so happy to share and had written out so eloquently before is that i woke up to

new sprouting leaves on the first plant i ever bought when i moved back to california in 1999, a plant that has

and my first thought was to share it with my soul sister chichi.  she will understand.

and to share with you my birthday gift: a stunning painting by jeanne-marie.

i need to make a run to have some of my paintings framed, paintings i've been storing until the big move; one by jenny wentworth, another by rick beerhorst and several by cathy cullis as pictured above the mirror which will go over the mantle.

progress continues on the house in giant leaps since i want to leave for the trip having left it as comfortable as possible for richard.  

 this is the corner we come to relax and where we have been ardently glued to on sunday eves
watching season 4 of downton abbey.

 and this is where i tiptoe off to when a cup of coffee is in much need or to cook on these cold cold nights we have been having. no rain yet though but for a few minutes of droplets yesterday.

it has been hard adjusting to an electric stove.  so far so good other than higher temperatures needed but if further down the road we can switch back to gas, i would be more than obliged.

 i did it, re wrote just about every word.

 and there it is again.....the tiny leaf that started the day.

at last order: a place for everything and everything in its place. a miracle of perseverance.....room by room, i have cleaned and polished, dusted and closeted, sorted and discarded. so everything is back to normal now and we can start the new.  chile and argentina are becoming a memory and back in the US, small beginnings hint of great things.  settling back takes time and mental clarity.  and with a trip changes always occur, a newfound purpose stirs the conscience, a new passion (in my case a love affair with my camera), new challenges. especially with my relationships-to my people and with my things. 

in times when life comes at you fast, it is easy to become overwhelmed with too much sensory information so i discipline myself after short meditations to sift carefully, let things silt. 

people keep asking me to create, they beg me to create. i haven't really sewn or painted much since september of last year, but what happens is that i look at the stacks and stacks of  art materials and i just refuse to disturb the order.  art is messy and right now i need order.  so i opt for roadtrips in the rain (yesterday we drove into santa paula and the ojai valley), long conversations with my daughter, a night of dancing with richard, reading my magazines and discovering new blogs.  for now this suits me just fine.  i lived a year in a whirlwind of sensation and now is a time for peace and softer sensations.

i call it processing. 

it's so good to be home and to find everything so balanced

we have booked passage to Uvita, Costa Rica for Thanksgiving and will stay with family and friends for 5 days and then travel the following five.  when i return though, i have to jump on a plane right away to go to chile, something i am really not looking forward too in spite of it being summer there in december.  the previous trip really left deep scars from which i have not quite recovered and i will be there mainly for more and more piles of paperwork and bureaucracy but be what it may, i have to do it.  to lighten the load, i have decided to rent a small furnished apartment since mom's no longer is habitable after the pending sale and will try to hook up with cecilia and paty and patty and rebeca as much as i can to take my mind off  all the work up ahead.

in the interim, camarillo has welcomed the rains and the colors of autumn which i have wirnessed first hand by driving around the farms closeby and taking photos