Signs of the Times

I am in the process of adjusting to a new season, both in the weather and in my life, and when I look around my house, I spy a multitude of scenes telling the tale...

One such scene is a particular window sill in my kitchen.

I used to pay a lot more attention to the aesthetic beauty of the window sill above my kitchen sink. I have never been blessed with wide window sills, but I liked to keep that narrow strip of wood looking neat, seasonal and well tended. After all, you see it so often!

Now, with some input from my children, my decor more or less just "happens." Since the children's offerings are often seasonal, we do at least get that right!!!

Here is what's on my kitchen window sill today:

1. A glass holding several dandelions picked especially for me by Gavin.
2. A lemon-cake scented candle.
3. A bunch of parsley leftover from what I picked from my herb garden to add to my chicken gravy.
4. John. (see this post for more on him.)
5. Two very pretty, albeit winkled, leaves Elasa & I found on a walk.
6. A little black object of unknown origins which I am afraid to throw out for fear that I will only then discover it's irreplaceable use. 

Here is what it tells about me:

1. I am the mother of young children, and when they see dandelions, they are well-trained to think of their mother. 
   
2. I find it a good thing to have a candle handy for those times when something burns a bit in the kitchen or when company is expected (or the occasion when the two coincide!) Of course the candle also tells you that I love the color yellow and the scent of lemons, but you already knew that!   
   
3. I love using fresh herbs when I have the time and inspiration and pretty green parsley is one of my best friends!  
   
4. I keep holding on to hope even though John has yet to be reborn (and his little cocoon looks so very dry & brown!)  
   
5. I have a daughter who always has her eye out for pretty leaves at this time of year, and thanks to a neighborhood full of trees, we get to see a lot of them!
   
6. I have a phobia that has to do with a fear of throwing things away too soon. On the appointed day, however, that phobia will turn into one that has to do with a fear of being smothered in clutter and the little black object will have to go. I just don't know when one phobia will give way to the next one. 
   

If I raise my eyes to the actual window, there are more tales being told:

Taped to the window are two "stained glass" leaf pictures that Elasa & Gavin made while we were at the cabin with my family this past weekend (more on that later!) They showcase some very fine fall foliage.  

                                           

The view through the rather obscured window to the outside shows a Dogwood tree that actually belongs to my neighbor, even though it is only several feet from our house, wearing its own fall finery and confirming that fall has arrived!!!

Here are a few more scenes telling tales: 

My desk upstairs is currently holding fabric, paint chips and a bag of goodies from the paint store that have to do with the remodeling going on in the "master bedroom" (more on that later, too!)

The construction site is a testament to dreams in the making. And a husband's hard work. 

The school-table used to study math & reading in the morning and scattered with art supplies in the afternoon discloses a home where school & play all run together. 

The kitchen table where Elasa is fashioning new dresses for her little paper dolls showcase an activity that kept her well-entertained while her brothers napped.

I am surrounded by scenes that tell tales not only about who I am, but on who I am becoming. 

My natural bend is towards neatness & order, but I have this sneaking suspicion that you have to have a little clutter in order to be creative, or, shall I say, to fully enter into certain aspects of life, so I am trying to learn the joy, or maybe the acceptance, of such clutter, whether their duration be for hours or for days (or even months? years?)

I get the feeling that I can either be depressed by the messes, or thankful for the blessings they reflect.

Stacks of books, scattered markers, dusty bedrooms littered with construction debris, outgrown clothing in the attic waiting to be put away, play-doh stuck to the kitchen floor, random decor on my window sills, living rooms turned into restaurants...

All good.

At least for this season.

And some of them for many seasons to come.