I’m thankful for little reminders of the blessings I have…
French fries scatted through the back seat of my car.
Crayon sketches on the backs of my dining room chairs.
Soggy Cheerios floating in warm cereal bowl milk.
Princess dress-up clothes scattered around the house.
Chalk drawings on my sidewalk and driveway.
That macaroni and cheese is a delicacy.
That bread crusts are nasty.
And the sweet call of “Mommy” both day and night, to remind me, I am the most important person in their world.
When we constructed our house Nate carefully preserved the last two apple trees that survived in the once-orchard where our home is now built. By the end of each fall I always wish that he had simply cut the malevolent things down. We are always inundated with apples.
We pick them off when they are little to increase the size and decrease the yield. All summer long our daughters are paid a dollar a 5-gallon bucket to pick up the windfalls. And still we have bushels of apples. We gave some away, we made quarts and quarts of apple sauce, we made pie filling, we made apple butter. Still we had more apples.
I want you all to know. Once again, this year, I have conquered the apple tree.
Armed with my Vitorio Strainer, boiling and bubbling stockpots and gleaming jars I have won. The sink may be full of the casualties of my apple canning, the floors may be sticky from their lifeblood, but the last box of apples off the apple tree has been canned.
I didn’t do it all alone this year. I had help from a few stalwart individuals who would not feint at the site of buckets and boxes of apples. On the last batch my best help was Gracie. She turned and turned the handle on the strainer, mashing mountains of apples to mounds of mush.
In my canning frenzy, and halfway through eating a can of jellied cranberry sauce (I guess it must be one of those pregnancy cravings) I decided to try something a little different. I threw in some of this and some of that, our last batch ended up being Cranberry-orange-apple butter. The recipe, as best as I can render it is listed below
Lots of Apples
Couple cans of Cranberry Sauce (each containing over 600 Calories)
Orange zest
Orange Juice
Cinnamon
Cloves
Quarter apples and boil for 20 minutes. Remove from pot and press through strainer. Return to the stock pot and add all other ingredient to taste. Let simmer stir every few minutes for the next 2 hours or until the most of the liquid has evaporated. Pour in to jars and process for 20 minutes.
There are piles of paper at my computer.
There are piles of dishes in my sink.Autumn leaves have played an important part in the life of our family.
Nate proposed to me at the top of
When we lived in Nate’s grandparents house, as they served a mission. we were cursed with three giant ash trees and 17 or more towering poplars. They dumped leaves all over the lawn. It felt like all we did was rake and mow leaves all fall. Nate was out raking up the leaves one night when he lost his wedding ring.
A combination of the cold and the work let it slip right off his finger. We had cousins and aunts and uncles, flashlights and metal detectors. My mom finally found it. Nate says that was the point she either wanted us to stay married or figured she didn’t want to give me the chance to do any worse – so she gave it back.
There is something magical about jumping into a pile of leaves. Something magnetic. Something that whispers to the child that dwells quietly in each of us “Come and jump into me, burrow through me.” Piles of leaves capture the smell of the earth, when the tops of the trees, so far from our reach are finally ours to play in.
It’s not truly fall, and winter cannot come, until the leaves piled so high, are scattered and tossed, by those who pounce, bury and burrow.
We got seven chickens- they are called Brahmas and We have 4 light brahmas (Flower, Daisy, Helga and Contessa) and 3 dark brahmas (Clementine, Dixie, and Hyacinth). 
Although she did not do the color adjustment she told me what she wanted. I did not crop the picture or adjust the sharpness for the most part this image was strait out of the camera.
"Oh come, now, you don’t mean to let on that you like it?”
The brush continued to move.
“Like it? Well I don’t see why I oughtn’t to like it. Does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?”
That put the thing in a new light. Ben stopped nibbling his apple. Tom swept his brush daintily back and forth—stepped back to note the effect—added a touch here and there—criticized the effect again—Ben watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. Presently he said:
“Say, Tom, let me whitewash a little.”
- Mark Twain The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
We had absolutely no problem picking out a name for either of the girls. It was so simple, we both immediately agreed on both Rori and Gracie – “boy” has this been a different experience.
We haven’t been able to agree on any of the names for one reason or another. Nate’s supreme test of any name is if it sounds good in the name game song… “banana-fanna-fo- facie….Gracie”. Everything from “I knew someone named that in high school”, “that name sounds too ‘hard’”, “I don’t want his nick-name to be…”, to “that’s a good old man’s name- but not a little boy name” has been presented to disqualify various monikers.
Well I think we have the name.
We talked about this one a few times- and off-handedly disqualified it each time. Nate told me the other day that he had always wanted a little boy named Sawyer- because of Tom Sawyer. Nate is a big Mark Twain fan. I like the name too- and so- simply as that we settled on it.
Sawyer- because we like it- and Nate likes Mark Twain (He says he still gets to call the baby Huckleberry – his other Twainian choice)
GranBarry- Because Nate’s great-grandpa was named “Nathan Granberry”, Nate’s dad is named “Barry” and Nate’s middle name is “Barry”
Pilcher- Because that’s just the way it works.
We are excited. It even works with the name game- it must be right…
“Sawyer, Sawyer bo-boyer, banana-fanna-fo-foyer……”
Any guesses? Gracie said it should be a baby girl so it can have all of her old clothing. Rori said it should be a boy, cause she already has a sister and needs a brother to play with. As far as Nate or I, we were thinking it is a girl cause we can not agree on a boy name. So here are the results... 
Yep it's a boy!!! I guess for Gracie's sake he will wear a little bit a pink and Nate and I will begin fighting over the name.
After I was done being mad, Rori and I talked about what had happened and she told me she just felt mad in her heart. I love Rori's ability to understand people and the way they feel along with how she feels. As she was apologizing she was crying, I asked her way she was crying she told me "i just feel sad about what I said".
I love you Rori even if I am a "mean old woman" at least I will always be YOUR mean old woman. Sleep well my little Roo.
This photo session was a blast. Justin is a wonderfully unique person, who has a true love for photography and also people. I highly recommend him. Thanks again Justin.
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