Saudade

Saudade is a Portuguese word that perfectly describes my state of mind today. Outside the little cabin we call home the air was thick with fall. Those of you in Mexico and Florida must miss this beautiful transition. The air has a dampness to it- a kind of sweet decay. It wraps itself around you like a musky blanket and slows you down. It's a good slow, a good decay. You can't help but be reminded that all things change. The chill in the morning will give way to frost. The days will get shorter. Soon the wood stove that warms our house will be going most of the day and into the night. Change is like death and taxes- inevitable. So why fight it. Those red and yellow leaves will be replaced by white snow. My redhead will become a teen; my babies, little boys.
Saudades has no exact translation into English, but the closest I can come to describe it is nostalgia. Nostalgia and then some. I always feel it this time of year. As I watched my little ones run and play and work today I couldn't help but think about what it must have been like for my Dad to watch my brothers and me grow. He used to take us on drives. He would ask if we would like to go get a treat, and we would always say yes. We would stop at the 7-11 and get one candy and one drink each and then dad would just drive. He never said much on those drives. We would always listen to classic rock and watch life pass by our car windows. So that's what I did today, minus the classic rock and 7-11 ( I did bring a bag of caramels for good measure). It finally made sense today. You can really clear your head when you are behind the wheel. The kids didn't mind the drive, but I didn't go for them. I went to remember those drives, and what it was like to be the passenger and not the driver. I have more to say, but it's late and I feel like this post is getting a little sappy.
On our drive we gathered some fall leaves and came home to do some crafts. Here are the pics:

Through the snow, up hill both ways...

Last Sunday Jake, Geronimo, Henry and I drove up to the Uintas and chopped down some trees. Two to be exact- dead ones. You know that old saying about a tree falling in the woods? Yeah, it's amazing that you can't hear that in the city. I swear that's about the loudest noise ever. Gathering wood is usually pretty fun in my opinion. I like chainsaws. And axes. And wearing my Carhartts. I also like Jake in a pair of Carhartts, with a chainsaw, and his big beard. I'm getting sidetracked... So, getting firewood=fun. Getting firewood with two babies in tow=lame. Gmo was napping when we arrived, so it started out well. I was able to help Jake a bit. I just put Henry in the backpack and did what I could. But when Gmo woke up my task became making sure he didn't die. Gathering wood is not a task to do with children. Big things, i.e. trees, can fall on them. Chainsaws kick- I'm sure if I was clever I could come up with some sort of pun for that. Luck for you, I'm not clever. They can swallow bad things, get attacked by wild animals (Honey badger don't give a sh**!), or get run over by stupid "campers" on OHVs. Lame. So Jake was pretty much on his own after that. As the sun started to go down and there was still a ton of wood to cut and load, I relegated poor Gmo to the carseat with some crayons and a coloring book, loaded Henry on my back, and did what I could. That last sentence sucked. I didn't party all the way through college. I promise. And I inhaled, but just a little. Promise.
Here are some pictures of our exciting wood gathering expedition.

 Don't I look like I work hard?

 The fruits of our labor. I mean Jake's labor.