Even though we haven't had a hard frost yet and the temperatures are relatively balmy, autumn is on its way out and we are acting accordingly. We butchered and readied for the freezer the last batch of broiler chickens on Halloween and yesterday was spent turning necks into broth, making onion rolls and chicken/vegetable soup, also for the freezers -- which are pretty much packed full.
The last of the pears have been picked and preserved; there are still a few peppers in the garden, though the deer have eaten most of the foliage. And there are collards and kale. . . But in November my attention is called inward -- the continuing project of winnowing possessions -- my workroom is half-tidy, half-chaos. Many books have gone to the library book sale and to other homes, big boxes of fabric and fabric scraps have been let go, and there's a growing pile of things for the February flea market to benefit a local charity. I find myself putting things in the give away pile and then being tempted to take then back out. And then I think of the horror stories of elderly hoarders and try very hard to follow someone's (I don't remember whose) very good advice when it comes to these items -- look at that book, that basket, that piece of pottery, that craft kit, or whatever the possession is, acknowledge the pleasure that item brought you originally, and realize that you probably won't ever read that book again, that you have more baskets and pottery than any six people need, that you're never going to put that dollhouse kit together or the kaleidoscope kit or the Nantucket Lightship basket either. Life grows shorter, like the days, and it's time to make room for the important things and get rid of the clutter.