It is downright chilly here!
We've gotten a much anticipated and thoroughly enjoyed little cool front.
It's meant nippy mornings that beg for baking and drinking cider.
If you are a small boy who has, somewhere deep down, a little Comanche blood running through your veins, it means it is time to bring out the tipi poles.
My men have fond memories of chilly mornings spent eating muffins and sipping cocoa in last year's tipi, and so a new tradition is born...
The first cool front must be heralded by erecting a Comanche camp.
They've hauled out their stick horses, their Scheich animals, various library books about cowboys and indians and half the blankets in the house.
They run in and out asking for more "supplies," which can mean anything from dried cranberries and Clementines, to string and scissors for making "tools."
On occasion they come in asking for a visit from the storyteller (me), to read them a chapter (or three) of "A Tree in the Trail."
They pay me in acorns and shells if they deem my tales acceptable.
They've even taken to trading with a neighboring tribe.
Grain for feathers.
Isn't fall just the best?
I'll be adding some of our favorite Native American tales to the sidebar. If you notice any essentials missing, please let us know!
