The Fall has arrived to Ontario with full force. Some trees sport branches completely yellow, with dustings of pink and red, while still green. Leaves on the grass, goldenrod and evolving milkweed. Staghorn Sumac starting to dance with the deep rust that telltales its presence. My most favourite season of all is definitely here. It has rained for two days, and the fog envelops the entire country side. A blanket of mist evaporates from the roads, while the strong scent of pines and earth penetrates your very soul. Yes, Fall is here.
Inside the home, no crackling fire yet. But little by little, the Mother pins for the hand-knits of years before, for the fingerless gloves (bag lady gloves the husband calls them), for the woolly tights and the furry-on-the-inside boots for the children. She has been making and making, albeit so much more slowly this year. The kitchen is seeing action like no other month, cracking baked goods on a daily basis. The freezer is getting full of poppyseed and lemon muffins, wild blueberries and cinnamon, pumpkin and nutmeg too. Loaves and pound cakes are gracing the dinner table, and we even had the pleasure of sampling a bit of plum cockaigne. My Fall-induced energies seem to be concentrating in the oven, much to the chagrin of the dolls in the studio. But their time will come I keep telling them.
Exhibit A: Little Thorpe. I found him under the maple tree one day as I was baking a plum cake and he has been the object of much affection and many ohhs and ahhhs from the little girls in the house. Knitting his little stocking hat brought many giggles, and endless requests "for one just for me Mama". Today I went as far, and as bold as, to finish his little details and drafting a pattern for and completing his little footed sleeper. Thorpe is asleep most of the time, so pajamas were just the thing he needed. Now I am bound to make him a diaper, and that should be it I tell myself. He should be then ready to find a home where he can go and snuggle and be read to, and let other people oohhh and ahhh over his adorableness. But not yet.
Someone asked me not too long ago why I didn't make babies that often, my response was: "Because I fall way too in love with them and it is very hard to say good bye to them". This little baby pattern of mine stirs every single motherly cell in my body, and cuddling them in the nook of my arms is the way you will mostly find them while they are here in this house. I feel a little *too nutty* about it, but it can't be helped. The movement of their limbs, their size (14" tall) and the way they turn into little balls of baby-ness is just too much for me. I must cradle them. As long as possible.
So while the Fall winds rave outside, and the wetness of the Earth calls for the continuing change of season, I will play with Thorpe inside, let him smell the scents of nutmeg and cinnamon, sing him lullabies and wrap him real tight, because one day, soon, he won't be here anymore.
**For those interested, Thorpe will become available for purchase here in the blog (when he is ready), via comment style. If you want to understand how the process works, or an approximate retail value for a doll like him, please read my FAQ page.