(November 9, 2026) – Suddenly it’s November. The days are flying, faster than the witches of October.
I’m sitting in the front room, where I no longer dwell for long. These chairs are where Bob Kilgore and I eased into each morning. I with a cappuccino in my Finnish mug, he curled in the other chair woven of thick threads; leaving behind a coating of soft fur on a green velvet pillow. When did I brush away the fur for the last time?
In our first year here, at Rivendell, Bob left us long before we expected him to; leaving us with raw hearts and tears that sneak up and drip over. When we are driving into the neighborhood and turning into the driveway, we still anticipate he will be at the door waiting to greet us, to lead the Big Old Bear to the pantry for a treat.
The other morning, I startled the large black cat that prowls our yard, when I stepped through the gate to the driveway. Last night, a calico cat was investigating the front porch. He caught us watching and slipped around the shrubbery and through the iron gate. I went to the back door and flipped on the light. Sure enough, there he was on the patio, approaching the door. When he saw me through the glass, he hurried on. We would not have minded if he’d stayed for a while.
I am often asked; and I don’t know, if another cat will join our life here. I know so many of y’all understand the feeling. We miss the presence of a third in our household. But the inevitable experiencing of the uncertainty of illness, decline and loss again, overwhelm me.
There has been great satisfaction and comfort for us here, this first year, as Rivendell has become our own. The rooms took form quickly. In fact, yesterday I saw a note that one year ago, on November 7, 2025, the last moving box had been emptied. I had those cardboard banes cleared out in less than a month, determined to make Home. Familiar pieces of our past thirty years were set in place. I did not reinvent the wheel of our home here, nor is this a twin of our previous, well-loved and well-lived homes. There have been a few subtractions of furnishings that would not fit, with new additions supplementing the old guard as we settled in. The kitchen immediately took on new paint color, soothing the spirit greatly.
The Christmas tree went up – did I begin decorating early last year? I can’t recall now. But it was a spirited feeling as our old, familiar bits of glitter and greens filled the nooks and crannies. We loved having a tree in the front window again and missed having one in the snug (aka family room.) December into early January, a substantial covered patio was set in place, and we gloried, anticipating long spring days and summer evenings spent outside, with a snoozing kitty on the ottoman.
January and early February meant more reorganizing, more electrical updates, more walls painted, and taking time for cozy afternoons by the fire and filling my puzzle board with odd shapes forming images of flowers.
Mid-February, the other primal urge of my being began to stir and bubble. Giving each other trees for Valentines Day set things off with the clang of shovels, as a landscape crew planted them; and another crew came in to work with me, clearing sod for new garden spaces, lining curves in stone, adding compost and soil. I quickly drew up a plan – no, I did not spend all winter on this one. The plan had rolled around in my head all winter, and took paper form in one February afternoon. And we were off!
I was thankful for help removing large, overgrown and tired greeneries, the crew also planted large and some of the small bushes. Early perennials and ground covers went in with my own dirt-stained hands. Bob Kilgore and I spent February and March with my knees and hands in the soil, and Bob’s pink nose poking into the holes and plants as I put them in. With a self-determined planting deadline of having the base gardens in place by April, I made it.
A few things determined the deadline. First, early established plantings endure the heated Texas summers much better than those plunked in during already hot May. Second, despite more than fifty years in Texas, I do not tolerate heat well. I work in the heat when necessary and pay the price. Thus, early planting is my friend. Third, with the B.O.B. scheduled for April surgery, I knew my days would be full.
April and May were filled with recuperation, doctors’ appointments and not much else. We were happy to have the thriving gardens and our comfy chairs on the patio to enjoy. But May brought us to an anguished ending as Bob’s kidney disease advanced and dementia set in for our dear boy. We said goodbye in his happiest of places, the backyard gardens, as he drifted off to peace and we wept rivers of tears on his soft fur. Something had driven me to completing the Kitty Memorial garden. We placed him forever in his happy place, amongst the memories of other kitties.
June found us continuing to fill days with doctors’ appointments, physical therapy, and my schedule of chauffeuring the B.O.B. to the court and his appointments. June 14 was a day of gladness for all as he sat behind the wheel once again, and I happily approved his re-entry into self-transporting. We watched the Cardinals and Chickadees and other friends delighting in the waters of the birdbath, mornings and evenings.
And suddenly my own time spread in front of me once more. Returning to more normal days was an adjustment and honestly, not completely easy. I found myself at loose ends – but I quickly overcame that! Pink Flamingo Day raised its pinkie head at Rivendell in late June. The gardens continued to grow, and deadheading commenced on a regular basis.
July – recuperation continued for the Big Old Bear, something we’ve not had to deal with in thirty years of marriage. It’s been a long haul, and normalcy has finally slipped into place this fall. The garden hung on, growth halted by summer heat. The squirrels continued their tyranny as the pecan shed fruit in overwhelming heat, gathering, digging in my gardens, burying and scolding me as I hand watered in the evenings.
The snug and hallway were painted with success. I rolled miles of wall with antique white and my son stepped in to do the high spaces and smooth out any spotty areas. We were elated with the new lightness to our living space! There are still rooms to be tackled with paint. I hope to do our bedroom and bath this winter. The entry needs painting, the front hallway and my writing room. Someday the guest room…no rush there.
August found me indoors in the misery of hot summer. I was able to spend a smidge of time with my grandbabies (babies now sixteen, and twelve speeding to teen) before the beginning of a new school year. Hardy Dwarf Ruellia multiplied and put out masses of purple blooms in the gardens. The other heat-resistant blooms of summer continued to bloom, if not as profusely as in May and June, enough to satisfy.
September, we scheduled in a few football games to watch our middle school player and our high school flag corps dancer. September found me as well, deciding it is time to get off the bench and figure out draperies for the snug. Can you say procrastination?
And we began walking on the nature trail just steps from our home, as well as hoofing it on the streets when darkness kept us from the trail. This was a welcomed change. I have walked off and on, and worked out some in our years together, the B.O.B. has never agreed to join me, until now. I am overjoyed for it and to see him regaining strength and endurance as well as improved balance.
We had more trees planted in the backyard in September, and I’ve kept them watered with a dripping hose. All the new trees and shrubs have established and survived the heat of summer’s end. Heat that lasted well into October. We also picked up playing chair volleyball with the seniors in town, I finally admitting the inevitable. Reaching a ripe old sixty-eight does indeed make me a senior. The games are more fun than I can say – another physical activity also unprecedented in our marriage! If you live in Rowlett and are well-ripened, join us for a blast on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings. You can message me for info.
I have set out fall touches inside Rivendell, bunches of cut Bittersweet on the dining table, fall toned antique dishes set out in vignettes, dried gourds and ceramic pumpkins. Not much, but enough to herald in autumn. Pumpkins outside mingle with falling pecans again, and leaves scatter on the lawn, patio and driveway. We love our shady yard, and I will use some of the leaves for winter mulch in the gardens. Raccoons have been spotted in the backyard; I’m pretty sure possums wander here at night too. I have painted a mix of Tabasco, Cayenne and dish soap on the Japanese Maple to deter the squirrels from further damaging her dainty branches by chewing off bark. We quietly marked the passing of one year at Rivendell with surprise and satisfaction, at this place that has become home.
Suddenly it’s November, headed into the second week of deep autumn, finally it almost feels like Autumn here. It’s so pleasant to step outside, and we are not dealing with dripping sweat. Thanks to my son, the bin of holiday lights is down from the attic, ready for the light guy whenever he gives the signal, it won’t be long now.
I feel the urge – it is strong – to begin pulling out the Christmas tree and decor. I feel certain we’ll be decorated before Thanksgiving this year! And why not? Though I’m not one for sparkle and lights in October, this year mid-November feels appropriate!
We took a recent sojourn to the Hill Country, returning to the same casita we have visited a number of times. A beautiful place of peace, its surrounding views so dry from the drought of summer, we did not mind a rainy day there! This past week we voted and rejoiced at results from Texas, and throughout the country. And I finally had a drapery consultant in, (applause please!) deciding I need not do all the work of hanging draperies by myself.
Veterans Day is this week. The flag is flying at the curb. We’ll join the ceremony at Veterans Park, here in our town on Wednesday. The pumpkin pot has been on the stove since September. It’s finally time to make soup. This might be the week!
Full Circle and a very Full Year. Life changes that make my head spin. We have much to be thankful for. Including a beautiful place to call Home.
I think I’ll begin sitting in that pretty front room again.
xo Sally
By Contributing Writer Sally Kilgore. Find more of her “Kukka” columns at BlueRibbonNews.com. Sally is married to her long-time flame, Judge Chris Kilgore. Sally’s work is published in The Dallas Morning News, Blue Ribbon News, Persimmon Tree and Orchards Poetry.
You may find her blog at SallyAKilgore.com, and contact her via her website at same.
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