We would sit between the mums and I might bring the partially-finished cowl and crochet hook out to appease the yarn mania that consumes my thoughts this time of year.
I have Trader Joe's to thank for the mums and autumn wreath, and I might mention how I want to grow those little pumpkin things next year that I don't know the name of.
The two hay bales I accidentally bought for the sheep instead of alfalfa after a sleepless night with a teething baby found a new home outside the front door. I have plans for them year-round and I might babble on about what we'll do with them for each season.
After a night of prowling and hunting moles before they hibernate for the winter, the kitties would rest on the bale closest to us, all cuddled together for warmth in a huddle.
We would chat a bit, or maybe even just sit in silence to let the rain do all the talking. Then I would remember the apple corer/peeler/slicer that was delivered over the weekend and the bushel of apples waiting to be processed. We would venture back indoors to serve breakfast to the family, prepare the older children for school, and start Apple Day with the two littles. You would be welcomed to stay and help or just sit and keep me company, or I would send you on your way with a slice of chocolate chip banana bread that just came out of the oven.
Except no one actually comes a'callin' at five o'clock in the morning.
It would be fun, though.
If you'll excuse me, I'm going to enjoy the rain with my coffee and crochet for a small moment before the children wake up and breakfast finishes baking.
I'm sharing this at Simple Lives Thursday.
