What a difference a year makes, in some things at least

We'd already had at least one big snowstorm this time last October, but this year's fall is looking to be on the mild side, if the squirrels, prairie dogs and national weather service can be believed. (The latter has issued a forecast that the fall is likely to have above normal temps, the former two haven't packed on the ounces in the astonishing way they did last fall.)

So no frosts yet -- peppers, raspberries and tomatoes still ripening, basil chugging along, though the whiteflies are getting to it. We got a satisfying amount of food out of the yard this summer and I'm happy with how much I've preserved, either as jams, jellies and pickles, or dehydrated and then vacuum sealed in jars, or in the freezers, which are full to bursting.

It's been a frustrating year and a few weeks on the health front; I really haven't gotten back to normal and wonder if I ever will. I have stretches of normal energy and activity, thank god, and sometimes they outnumber the cruddy days, so we still had a fun summer with a 100th birthday celebration for Great Grandma Shirley in Pennsylvania, a trip to Grandma Judith's Iowa farm, our annual Buckhorn Retreat in the mountains with our fellow Unitarians and tubing on the Poudre River in town. Steve's leapt in to do numerous projects with the kids, from fishing outings with Willow to building toys and structures with Harrison.

The latest health theory, which feels right to me, from my naturopath, is that the virus I picked up last fall went deep into my liver and is hanging out there, flaring up whenever I push myself too much or get too stressed. I can feel it there actually when it flares up, which it's doing again this week. We're on a third set of supplements to try to knock it back. In my search to feel well, I've undertaken a series of rolfing/structural integration bodywork with a highly recommended practitioner in town. She's also an energy worker and has combined the two modalities on me, which has been fascinating. I'm not, by nature, super attuned to energies and more subtle modalities, though I'd like to be. Experiencing emotional releases during some of this work has been eye-opening, to say the least.

I remain hopeful that I can kick this virus and return to a more stable level of health, so that I can experience the impending wonders of peri-menopause with a bit more ease. (I'm reading a fascinating book by master herbalist Susun Weed about menopause as the death of the maiden/mother stage and the flowering of the wise woman/crone. I can't say I feel in the least bit like I'm ready for the crone title, but I do like the idea of becoming a Wise Woman.)