October's Letter
Autumn garden, love notes, zucchini bread
Hello, loves. I wrote this letter to you a few days ago, and it’s a good thing I did. We’re currently under an evacuation notice because of a wildfire that blew up over the last couple days in the mountains that edge our valley. We are safe, the pets are safe, and we watch and wait (my husband was able to get an emergency flight home). Strong, gusty, erratic winds are forecast for tomorrow, which could put our little house even closer to harm’s way. If you’re inclined, pray for the fire management and firefighters, that people, homes, and livestock would be saved, and that the danger would soon be over. Thank you! Love to you all!
Monday - Sunday leaks into Monday. Slow time. Silence and solitude. Not a single list to do. Maggie Mae, asleep in a square of sunshine on the rug at the door, smacking her lips, eating something tasty in her dreams. Peanut, curled into the blanket at my feet on the sofa, slowly combing her tail with her rough pink tongue.
Tuesday - The morning is dark, and I light candles. The one in the window above the sink, the one in the window behind the sofa, another in the bookcase, and the one flickering against the mirror in the bath. The one on my desk, I light first of all, as soon as I get out of bed. We've entered the no-lights-before-dawn season (thanks, Jessica, for saying it that way).
Wednesday - I open the garden gate and step inside, hoping for a few tomatoes, a cherished handful, ripe among the green. So far this season, I’ve only found a ripe one here, a ripe one there. But, today? There’s abundance. Too many to hold. I pick, exclaiming my delight to the tomato vines, to Maggie Mae (who was watching at the gate), to the heavens above. Abundance. Exceedingly abundantly above all I could ask or think.
Thursday - A tiny post office, a tiny town, where you greet your elderly neighbor as you pull the post from the box, then chat while sorting your mail. Where you ask if they like zucchini bread. Where she says, Oh yes. Where you say, I’ll drop some off soon. Better to put the zucchini into bread, then give it away.
Friday - I paused on the hill and looked down at the sea of cattails winding through a pasture. Acres and acres of them, their leaves flames of brilliant orange in the morning sun. And in them one, ten, a hundred(?) thousand blackbirds, chattering, chattering, chattering, then rising up as one twisting, swarming blackbird storm.
Saturday - When it’s still dark and morning has just begun, my phone screen brightens. It’s from him to me: Morna (heart), always his first text of the day when he's away. Morna, because it’s the way one of the boys said morning at first, and it's stuck with all of us. And heart because, love. So, there, as sure as every dawn, is his Morna (heart), to which I reply with the same.
Moments Lately
Reading Lately
The Small and the Mighty by Sharon McMahon - It was just released a week ago, and I’m only half way through, but I must tell you, this is a book full of stories about ordinary Americans, who you’ve probably never hear of, who changed the course of history, making a difference in their immediate world by choosing hope, tenacity, and selflessness, and by doing the first small thing. It’s about those who built a better America by building up instead of tearing down. It’s a very inspiring book that is taking the country by storm.
Eating Lately
Roasted Tomatoes with White Beans
Oh my gracious. I know we all want to get on with roasting squash and root vegetables, and simmering soups and stews, but while we’re still in the tails of summer weather (um, 95 degrees?), please make this. I’ve made it twice in the last couple weeks, once with butter beans, served hot over crusty bread with shaves of parmesan, and once with great northern beans, to which I added a skillet-full of charred zucchini. My, my. Then, next day I served it cold alongside grilled chicken and I can’t say which way was better. It’s just incredibly good. If I have only one tip to share, don’t skimp whatsoever on the garlic. Oh, and if you don’t do beans, substitute pasta.
Favorites Lately
Earthy, piney, lovely for fall (“no lights before dawn”)
For holding all the things (from the laundry closet to the refrigerator shelf)
Topiary sisters (to add to the family)
Warmth enough for two (snuggled on the sofa, from American cotton, woven at a historic mill)
Slipper season (a new source for my favs)
As you know, I don’t put my writing behind a paywall. If you find joy and inspiration from my work here, do please share it far and wide. Thank you!
I've been reading your blog for ages and ages, but maybe I've never commented! But wanted to say that I am inclined, and am praying!
Prayers continuing for you and all those who
effected by or helping with the wildfires. Thank you for being a place of light and peace.