Note: this template comes from Kerry Clare at picklemethis.com, though I’ve adapted it.
1.
Making: It’s the time of season for taking and making stock, for putting food away (as in preserving), for using up the garden’s bounty. And what does “stock” mean? From the Etymology online site, the mostly 15th c meanings: “stump, wooden post, stake; trunk of a living tree; log”; “block from which a bell is hung”; “gun carriage” (and as a gunsmith’s daughter, I remember my father making stocks of walnut and cherry, shaping, polishing and oiling); “supply for future use; collective wealth”; “lay up in store” (17th c); “broth made by boiling meat” (18th c); and many more, so many more that stock itself, taking it, making it, could result in a book. Or an apple cake, using Merton Beauties and some bottled tart cherries in a skillet, covered with browned butter batter. Reader, it was delicious.
2.
Listening: I’ve written about this song before but how can September pass without “September Song” (composed by Kurt Weill, lyrics by Maxwell Anderson), without its sweetness, its yearning:
But it’s a long, long while from May to December
And the days grow short when you reach September
And the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame
And I haven’t got time for waiting game
And if you don’t believe me, listen to Willie Nelson, listen as you’re making dinner, the kitchen facing west as the clouds come in to mark the end of weeks of sunlight, maples beginning to turn, dogwoods already pink.
And the days turn to gold as they grow few
September, November
And these few golden days I’d spend with you
These golden days I’d spend with you
3.
Remembering: As I anticipate a trip in late October to look at Paleolithic art, I am remembering last year’s visit to the Dordogne and how we were led to this opening and what came after.
4.
Thinking: When I lie awake at night, I’ve been thinking about the difficulty of how to begin a new book. I have some ideas but so far they haven’t led me into something meaningful. Maybe this is the meaning. Maybe I need to pay attention. Add something to the pot.
5.
Eating: Apple cake; black beans simmered all day in the slow cooker with butternut squash, tomatoes, chilies, and eaten on little corn tortillas cooked on my old cast iron griddle; sourdough bread; Scottish flapjacks (which aren’t pancakes); salmon chowder (speaking of taking stock, because I thawed broth made from spot prawn shells); and dried mushroom risotto on the day that we walked down to see if there were any chanterelles yet and there was only one so I used dried ones instead.
6.
Loving: Photographs of my grandchildren standing in front of their houses on the first day of school, swimming, riding their bikes, eating ice-cream.
7.
Reading: The Last Whaler, by Cynthia Reeves; What is Paleolithic Art, by Jean Clottes; Being Jewish After the Destruction of Gaza: A Reckoning, by Peter Beinart; Curve! Women Carvers on the Northwest Coast, curated by Dana Claxton and Curtis Collins.
8.
Hoping: I’m keeping these close.
9.
Sipping: Last night I asked John to bring me a half-measure of single malt as I read in bed and I don’t know if it was Bowmore or Laphroaig (the two we currently have in our cupboard*) and it was like sitting on a beach with the sting of salt wind and seaweed, a smoky fire warming my hands.
10.
Appreciating: That I can still swim in the lake, even though it’s cold, even though I have a hard time getting warm afterwards, that I can still propel myself on my back while I look up at the changing sky, that I can watch an osprey, that I can actually swim into the arriving rain, soft on my face.
*I just discovered the Bowmore bottle on the counter so it was that one. I love them both.
...Theresa Kishkan 