Inside, my dutch oven simmers on the stove, full of our favorite French Market Stew. It is a smell that reminds me cold weather approaches.
Outside, the sky is just as grey as it dawned. Clouds continue to roll in. There's a gentle breeze that ruffles the autumn leaves.
This tree that stands so close to the deck has dropped so many of its small red leaves. The top of the tree against the sky looks wintry. I think it's quietly defying the hurricane. Dropping its leaves before it can be stripped of them.
I'm getting our house ready. Water bottles and pitchers full of water. Tuna and soup cans and bread at the ready. Batteries bought and flashlights located. Phones charged and gas tanks filled. Leaves about to be raked.
It's our first real hurricane.
Isabel scared me nine years ago, 15 days away from my due date with my first baby, but when all was said and done in our part of North Carolina, I had seen thunderstorms more fierce. We are in new territory with this one.
So I'm preparing the children...letting them know what to expect without scaring them. Candlelights and reading and boardgames and art projects.
The phone rings, and it's my own Mom...calling with storm updates and concern in her voice and reminders of an open invitation to the mountains.
And I realize that you never stop strengthening the nest or wanting to protect your children...whether they're five or thirty-five...no matter the distance that separates.
And it's not so much the house that makes a home...but the people who make that home special and worth coming home to, who cultivate and protect it.
Don't forget you can still enter the giveaway here!!!
~This is Day 28 of 31 Days. You can find all posts in the series here 31 Days of Making this House our Home.