scotslassie
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Reading the Weather Thread made me wonder what our favourite seasons are. I say "favourite" but should also say "favorite" in respect of my American/Canadian friends here on this forum and further afield.
My Aunt, who passed of Bulbar Onset ALS this year, always thought her favourite season was Autumn. She came here every Sept/Oct and watched the countryside change from lush green to red, gold, and amber. We would take walks and scuff our way through the fallen leaves hunting for conkers like little children, sticks in hand to reach the biggest chestnuts still clinging to the branches. There was always an even bigger conker further up and, yes, we even climbed a tree or two to reach it. Heaven knows what we looked like to innocent passers by. We cut branches from the Rowan trees laden with ripe red berries and gathered fir cones. We took our treasures home and decorated the windowsills outside the house and watched as the birds and red squirrels reaped the benefit of our labours for days after. Then we would do it all again.
One year she came in December and everywhere was covered in a deep, white blanket of snow. She helped to take the winter feed out to the sheep and cattle every morning and always left "a wee bit extra" for the deer who would come around the house every evening looking for the food they would never find in the bitter hills surrounding us. Afternoons were spent making pots of soup and stews, bread and cakes and we would rub our sleeves on the steamed up kitchen windows watching for the men arriving off the hill. Evenings were spent in front of a big log fire watching films, reading and chatting. When the weather grew vicious we knew we would get a knock on the door from travellers unable to go any further so prepared rooms and enough food for them. She loved this part most of all and became 'Mine Host' for the evening, feeding them until they almost burst then practically tucking them into bed. Christmas meant more foraging for holly, ivy and fir branches and of course, The Tree. She picked a 20 foot monster but we talked her into it's 10 foot cousin after explaining about ceiling heights. We cut it down, took it home, dried it and decorated it. That Christmas, in fact, that winter, was perfect. When she left to go home in January she said she thought she now liked winter better and added "but I will have another Autumn here just to make sure". Sadly it was not to be. When clearing her house I came across two boxes with my name on them. They were her Christmas decorations and they will take pride of place here this year and for many years to come. My favourite? When Autumn starts to lose it's grip and Winter takes its hold. That's when I feel her close by, I feel a warmth like a Summer sun on a Spring day. A lady for all seasons.
My Aunt, who passed of Bulbar Onset ALS this year, always thought her favourite season was Autumn. She came here every Sept/Oct and watched the countryside change from lush green to red, gold, and amber. We would take walks and scuff our way through the fallen leaves hunting for conkers like little children, sticks in hand to reach the biggest chestnuts still clinging to the branches. There was always an even bigger conker further up and, yes, we even climbed a tree or two to reach it. Heaven knows what we looked like to innocent passers by. We cut branches from the Rowan trees laden with ripe red berries and gathered fir cones. We took our treasures home and decorated the windowsills outside the house and watched as the birds and red squirrels reaped the benefit of our labours for days after. Then we would do it all again.
One year she came in December and everywhere was covered in a deep, white blanket of snow. She helped to take the winter feed out to the sheep and cattle every morning and always left "a wee bit extra" for the deer who would come around the house every evening looking for the food they would never find in the bitter hills surrounding us. Afternoons were spent making pots of soup and stews, bread and cakes and we would rub our sleeves on the steamed up kitchen windows watching for the men arriving off the hill. Evenings were spent in front of a big log fire watching films, reading and chatting. When the weather grew vicious we knew we would get a knock on the door from travellers unable to go any further so prepared rooms and enough food for them. She loved this part most of all and became 'Mine Host' for the evening, feeding them until they almost burst then practically tucking them into bed. Christmas meant more foraging for holly, ivy and fir branches and of course, The Tree. She picked a 20 foot monster but we talked her into it's 10 foot cousin after explaining about ceiling heights. We cut it down, took it home, dried it and decorated it. That Christmas, in fact, that winter, was perfect. When she left to go home in January she said she thought she now liked winter better and added "but I will have another Autumn here just to make sure". Sadly it was not to be. When clearing her house I came across two boxes with my name on them. They were her Christmas decorations and they will take pride of place here this year and for many years to come. My favourite? When Autumn starts to lose it's grip and Winter takes its hold. That's when I feel her close by, I feel a warmth like a Summer sun on a Spring day. A lady for all seasons.