As September Winds Down

 Yesterday's rain has been followed by sunshine and a strong breeze that feels just like September. My September days are so different than usual and I feel such mixed emotion about that. I long for my wood road walks on these crisp days but instead walk city blocks and sit in city parks. I am not busy with harvest or daily batches of pickles but instead have more time to sit at my desk to write. To think that perhaps not a pickle will be made is so strange . I know this September is one of my own making ; my own choice to step away and allow the rest, reprieve and renewal of a quiet, solitary escape to a small space in the city to heal a worn and weary soul. But every previous September makes its way into my head and heart as I sit here alone. So many September moments surface in my thoughts and fill me with joy and sorrow and a melancholy I am feeling on this beautiful September morning. Yesterday was a September day of note. Nineteen years ago yesterday Waylon Zachary was born. I rejoiced in  his birth feeling a connection to my son  through Donnie who survived the accident that took our boy's life. I now see this small boy becoming a man now just one year  younger than Zac was when he left us. Yesterday was also the third anniversary of the day my mother left us. Her presence remains in my memory and the very essence of who I am. I see her hands when I look down at my own and more and more see her face in the mirror. September days will soon end and give way to October and on we will go. I will navigate another month away from my normal, working toward a better way and a brighter hope. It is the one day at a time that is propelling me forward and I see the seasons as the framework for that. 

To Do the Day With Gusto

 Gusto- enjoyment or vigor in doing something. As I sat to contemplate a blog entry the phrase "Do this day with gusto" came to me. I am in the mindset of one day at a time these days. I am in a recovery and renewal mode and every day I try to embrace that. Embracing it takes some determination as I have a long established habit of putting others first . It is a new and challenging task to put my own well being ahead of everything else. My needs are simple though and today I have already had the gift of gusto. I swam with gusto. I love moving my body through deep water. I would prefer it be in my lake with the vast sky above me but for the next while the hotel pool will do. I felt the sunshine, felt the breeze and gazed at the clear blue sky with gusto. I felt the energy of the city and watched young people streaming out of the high school next door feeling their energy. I sat with a friend and enjoyed a tasty lunch. I came back to my small space and sat to write and hope to produce new words with gusto when I finish this entry. Yesterday's sorrows and concerns still exist and tomorrow's challenges and uncertainty are  likely. But gusto is possible too and a choice I make.  The sunflowers and pumpkins in the photo below are from a past season, a past garden, past days lived with gusto. But today's gifts and the season I find myself in, are just as bountiful.

Two Sisters at the Market

 Every Saturday from May to October I stand behind my table at the Kingston Farmer's Market. Some days offer more book sales than others and I am always happy for the sales. Making my table is the goal and I have always been able to do that. But so much more than the total books sales each week provides, is the gift of the people I meet. Each Saturday I see neighbors, friends and family. I usually get a hug from Alida and Elinor, have a nice chat with Jim, touch base with my sister in law Louisa, wave to folks walking by, glimpse people out in the courtyard and meet lots of new people. I usually sell a few books to those who come by to get the latest or maybe buy a gift for someone. I meet lots of new readers. Yesterday I had a woman and her husband come by who have bought books from the start , one book in particular having a family connection for her. A character in The Sewing Basket was based on her aunt and yesterday she told me of that aunt's passing. I have dedicated readers who wait for each new book. I have readers that come back after reading one book to get more. Always there are meaningful interactions that make the early morning worthwhile. Yesterday among all the others it was meeting two sisters, Alison and Julie. I noticed them at the jewelry table next to me. Attractive ,vibrant women enjoying their time together. A brief stop at my table can go  several ways; polite acknowledgement, a nod or greeting, " Are you Susan White?" gets asked a lot, pickups , some back reading , a question or two. Sometimes the person states some familiarity with my work; they heard an interview or saw my books somewhere. Maybe they have read a book or two. Sometimes students stop and say they remember having read or being  read one of my books in school. Lots of interactions take place in the five hours I stand behind my table. But sometimes those interactions are deep and meaningful , the discussion and sharing is profound and generous. Sometimes tears well up or fall and connection is made. The amazing thing is that every Saturday I am given at least one of those interactions. Alison bought The Year Mrs. Montague Cried after a short, meaningful conversation. She left the  dining room and her sister stayed behind and we continued talking. I will not even attempt to detail the ground that conversation covered except to say it was raw and real and touched us both. Two strangers let their guard down and shared a bit of the sorrow , the joy and the wisdom life has dished up. Julie bought The Year Mrs. Montague Cried even though she could have borrowed it from her sister. But of course it is not the book sale that mattered to me. On this quiet Sunday morning as I absorb and process the day ,sitting  quietly with my inner voice I recall the minutes two sisters and an author were given. This happened because I showed up and they stopped and we spoke and listened to one another going further than a polite hello , allowing another person to see what lies behind the face we present as we move through this world. It is moments like those that will bring me back next Saturday and keep me at the keyboard.