14,287

"Behind a painted picket gate
There lived a quilter known as Kate
She had one son, a boy named John,
One daughter whom she doted on.
She had one husband and one house,
One dog, one cat, one little mouse...
And 14,287 pieces of fabric.”

author unknown, but don't you think there could be endless variations?

"Behind a door of weathered pine
There lived a carver known as Kline
He had one son, a boy named John,
One daughter whom he doted on.
He had one wife, one car, one house,
One dog, one cat, one little mouse....
And 14,287 pieces of wood"

Try one yourself.

gifts

"Change comes bearing gifts."

to sing

We awoke to the song of a frog this morning.
In our backyard.
Such a loud voice for such a little creature.
I don't speak frog, but I got the message I think.
Winter is on the way.
It's inevitable.
But Spring will follow.
That's inevitable too.
If you are a frog, and your little frog butt is planted on the cold mud of October, the coming slumber of Winter and the warm breath of Spring are something to sing about indeed.

minor characters

I have been reading A Year With G.K.Chesterton. It is, as the title implies, a book of daily readings to last a whole year long, but I have been unable to put it down. I am not a philosopher and it will likely take me a year to figure out what he is saying at times, but I have found his words filling my thoughts, surrounding me and encouraging me. Single statements have felt like a thunderclap of revelation. His faith was strong and winsome. And what a way with words!

"We must certainly be in a novel;
What I like about the novelist is that he takes
such trouble with his minor characters."

believe

"Everyone on this earth should believe, amid whatever madness or moral failure, that his life and temperament have some object on the earth. Every one on the earth should believe that he has something to give to the world which cannot otherwise be given. Every one should, for the good of men and the saving of his own soul, believe that it is possible, even if we are the enemies of the human race, to be the friends of God."
G.K.Chesterton

here

She is here at last.
Loved before seen.
Somehow familiar
but as mysterious as tomorrow.
My tiny granddaughter.

hunters

We went for an early morning stroll, disappearing into the mist, our vision opening up before us as we walked. The trees were festively strung with spider webs. the sidewalks adorned with leaf confetti. A maple tree, swathed in color and the glistening strands of a large web drew us for a closer look.
"The spider is hiding there." My husband pointed to a folded leaf edge. His finger grazed the web. Instantly, a pompous, paunchy spider rushed out and inspected the spot for damage and retreated just as quickly to its hunters blind.
Quick as a wink.
He looked well fed.
Don't be fooled by the ornaments of Autumn.
The trees are full of hunters.