I have always liked the look of Alabama Novembers. To me cloudy gray days mean Thanksgiving is coming. It is a moody look, but one I happen to love. Melville's Ishmael tells us that ". . . whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul . . . I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball." For me the mood is more bittersweet and not nearly so dramatic.

Some months back a good friend who has never been to Sawyerville expressed curiosity about my house. She wanted to know what it was like inside so that she could better imagine me going about my daily activities. Having recently had most of the inside rooms repainted and some furniture moved to other locations or even out of the house, it was a good time to document.

Above you can see how the house sits on its one-acre lot, with the other three acres of woodland to the east and the south. That concrete walk points at the North Star. Those boxwoods have been removed: they encroached too much on the walk, and if ever emergency workers have to remove me by stretcher, they would have interfered. Those azaleas are still there, although the one on the far left is pretty tired now. The two holly bushes on the chimney-side I used to trim as rounded balls: now I am encouraging them to grow tall, like trees, and I find the twisted trunks most attractive. That yew tree on the right is about ten years younger than I: it was purchased, along with many other plants in the yard, by my mother from money she made taking school census one year. That chimney has been closed off since the early 1950s, when my parents enlarged the house from a two-bedroom to a four-bedroom structure: initially the smaller house I first knew centered directly behind that first smaller gable point. That screened-in front porch used to be a special joy, but about twelve years ago it was turned over to the cats Catalina and Sibling and later Kitty Witty: they never kept it very neat, nor does survivor Sibling now, so we won't take a close look at it. (There are some pictures available in the five blog posts dealing with Roscoe, however, and if you are curious, plug his name into the search box.)

We'lll start our tour in the living room.

On the afternoon of Veterans Day I startled a red fox in the woods near the back gate. Handsome fellow, large, great big bushy tail. This is the first time I have ever seen a fox on my property. I hope he has moved in down there and is not just passing through. My little three acres of woodlands is now one of the wilder areas near Sawyerville. (And no, this is not he. Wouldn't hold still to have his beauty struck.)