Dear Sunday Letter friends,
Hey, hey, I hope everyone is doing well. I’m great, other than I’m still super annoyed about the Razorback loss to Auburn yesterday. I’m typically not a sore loser. I promise, I’m not.
Let’s just not discuss it.
But seriously, that ridiculous call… ¯\_( ͡❛ ෴ ͡❛)_/¯
This past week, I was fortunate enough to spend five days at the Writers’ Colony at Dairy Hollow in Eureka Springs, a place I’ve been several times since I decided to try my hand at writing. I don’t know when I’ve needed to go there more than this particular time. What a treat to hide away and write with no distractions. The amount of progress I made on my manuscript astounded me; I can accomplish so much with no distractions—no meals to prepare, no dishes to put away, no weeds to pull, no television to waste time watching.
My muse always patiently waits for me at Dairy Hollow, faithful as an old friend.
Take a look at my fabulous writing space. I felt like I was writing in a treehouse. Everyone knows a good treehouse is one of the best things ever.
I managed to add over 10,000 words to my new story.
I wonder if John could build me a treehouse in the backyard?
The truth is if we don’t take time to recharge ourselves, the well runs dry. When the well runs dry, we have nothing to give anyone. Now, I’m refreshed and inspired and determined to stay focused on the things most important to me. Horrible referees notwithstanding.
In the few days I was gone, autumn caught up with the trees in our neighborhood. This tree barely had a touch of color a week ago.
When I get home from any trip, one of the first things I do is check on my plants. While I was gone, the asters went from beginning-to-bloom to an explosion.
I picked another trombetta zucchini from our garden and found a few more growing. After my next harvest, the vines will probably be done for the season. Already, I miss them.
Safe Travels, Hummingbirds!
Yesterday, I removed our three hummingbird feeders and gave them a good cleaning, preparing to store them for the season.
With all the beauty fall brings, it also brings the bittersweet realization that the hummingbirds have migrated.
Of course, that’s the ultimate goal. I make sugar water and fill feeders all summer so that they can eventually make the long journey south to their winter home.
Did you know, ruby-throated hummingbirds (which we see here in Northwest Arkansas), return to the same gardens to breed year after year, and even stop at the same feeders along the way. According to Journey North, they have been tracked arriving on the same day each year!
Another bittersweet realization of fall is the end of monarch season. Like the migration of hummingbirds, the migration of monarchs is also the goal. It’s the entire reason I grow a variety of milkweed. Yes, I will miss them too. Checking the plants for monarch eggs, watching the caterpillars grow, seeing the gorgeous monarchs flitting in the backyard—these things brought summer joy.
Yesterday, I collected milkweed seeds in a jar and left them to dry on the kitchen windowsill. I plan to separate the seed from the fluff, divide them into small envelopes, and place them in the seed drawer of our Little Free Library, sharing them with anyone who wants to take them.
For now they remind me of something magical—pixie dust in a jar, or summer lightning bugs.
Things Momma Says:
Me: I don’t have a quote from you for this week’s Sunday Letter.
Momma: Well, I had a bunch the other day when we went to the dentist. You should have written them down.
October may truly be my favorite month. I want time to slow so I can enjoy every turning tree, every smidgen of great weather before gray winter sets in.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Sunday Letter friends. Thanks for being here.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.