Clump #73: Rake through and recycle old newspapers and spent tickets.
A recent whirlwind of delightful and surprising family visits caused me to let go of my newspaper-reading habit, and, like fall leaves, the papers accumulated into ever-growing piles.
This was a bag of tickets my husband had been tabulating as the Fall Festival financial manager. It implores: “please recycle me.”
Okay, I will. With the cardboard clementine box below, it reads: “Recycling Works, Darling.”
Every time I drive through Lancaster County, PA to visit my mom, I’m buoyed by sights fascinating, beautiful, enjoyable, or all of the above. For instance:
I adore this goose, and by extension, the person (I’m guessing woman?) who dresses her up in myriad outfits to suit the seasons. Pictured, below, was today’s Halloween garb. Maybe some day I’ll have the gumption to knock on the door and thank its owner and clothier in person.
By contrast, this was the ensemble for late summer:
Of course the visit with my mom, itself, is the main attraction, but I also love the feeling of getting out into the country. Where else can you get big pumpkins for $2.00?
I bought one, and this is what you find at the front wagon: the honor system.
Last week I was snapping pictures of these adjoining houses with pumpkins over their doors.
I thought I was being inconspicuous …
when I noticed a piercing blue flower creeping over the sidewalk. I tried, unsuccessfully, to get a clear image of it as it swayed to and fro in the wind …
and suddenly a woman and her husband came out of the house. To my great relief, instead of telling me to leave, the woman asked if I would like to have some of the plant.
I asked her if I could take a picture of her giving me the plant. I didn’t have the nerve to say it might end up in a blog, so I didn’t photograph her face.
I also failed to tell her that she, the goose-dresser lady, and the trusting pumpkin seller had strengthened my faith in mankind.