The resort is currently at the time of year that I think of as the "in-between". We're busy with the fall chores, some extra cleaning, and in general, trying to catch up after the summer season ended. Though it started out cold and rainy, the summer and fall turned out to be just the kind of weather we long for, and expect to see. That gives me a good, warm feeling as we head into winter.
Our biggest annual autumn task, the processing of firewood, is mostly complete. Last year's deep cold really took a toll on the stacks in our main woodshed. Originally when Greg built and filled it, we thought that it surely held three years worth of wood. My, were we wrong! Stack after stack disappeared as we fed the hungry wood stove. We partially miscalculated, because we didn't expect to be going through so much wood well into May. Hopefully, this winter will be kinder in that respect. Despite the seemingly endless tasks of bucking, splitting, moving and stacking the wood, we still feel it is worth it. Every time I sit down in front of the stove, I am grateful for all of that work. Nothing warms me up quite like wood heat.
The docks are all out, high and dry on shore, safe for the winter and from spring ice break-up. Greg and his skid steer are quite a match when it comes to this job. His skill at developing and executing the process really pays off in fewer sore muscles at the end of the day. The same is true of taking the boats out of the water and storing them. It seems that equipment gets heavier every year. I feel a mix of relief and sadness when that job gets done. Did I get out on the lake enough, I ask myself?
This is also my chance to tackle tasks that get put off, and eventually stack up too high. In other words, the boxes of stuff. We all have them. Collections of things that need to be managed--either used, stored well, or passed along. Now that the kids have moved out, opportunities for re-allocating space have opened up. What better time to begin the process of sorting and pitching. I always make a huge mess when I am doing this. "It has to get worse before it can get better" is my modus operandi. When it is done, the clear spaces feel much improved.
So while it is the quiet time, it doesn't necessarily feel so. The days remain filled with many things to do. But evening comes sooner now, and then we can sit and relax, and enjoy that fire in the stove.