My taste buds are feeling the need for fall flavors, specifically for autumn spices. I love the taste of cinnamon and nutmeg. Sage and celery added to cornbread makes a wonderful side dish for poultry or pork. Perhaps its these first cool days after a long hot summer that spurs the desire for cold weather foods. Even the restaurants are beginning to push foods reminiscent of cooler seasons.
For me the ultimate Autumn food would be pumpkin. Ol' Abner refers to them as "gourds" and despises even the smell. Oh woe is me. I indulge in anything pumpkin as the season progresses. Pumpkin pie, pumpkin muffins, pumpkin flavored coffee, pumpkin roll, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin soup and of course a pumpkin smoothie to start my day. One of my favorite caterers offered an autumn cooking class a decade or two ago and I still pull those recipes out when I feel this welcome urge. She used the entire pumpkin. The pulp, the seeds and the rind were all valued in preparation of her treats. A meatloaf or beef stew baked in a pumpkin hull infused a richness never found before. Large pumpkins became serving vessels for punches and soups. Tiny pie pumpkins held yummy dips in a lovely setting on the appetizer table. We tossed the seeds in sweet or savory spices and baked them.The resulting goodies added crunch to almost any recipe and provided a quick snack food to add to trail mixes or use as a topping.
I even love the color of pumpkin. The soft orange exudes comfort. (I refuse to compare it to the "burnt orange" celebrated in this neighborhood) I love it's soft warmth. Maybe this is a childhood indulgence. Early memories of my grandmother bring to mind a sometimes endearment she used for me. She would pat her lap and say "Come here Punkin'" signaling that I could sit and rock til sleep just magically happened. Maybe pumpkins are magical, even after midnight!
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Handicap
Deciding to learn a new sport at age 63 might not be the wisest decision I've ever made, only a little wiser than waiting til I'm 64. I took golf lessons for a month and felt as though I was equipped (at least mentally) to have a good time on the course. Immediately thereafter, I loaded my clubs in the car and traveled to another city, citing a wealth of golf courses and a nearby location of Top Golf. Three weeks later I came home for a weekend and brought my still zippered golf bag home to stay.
Catching up at home, then aging into the next year with a busy holiday weekend to justify the fun, required a couple of lazy days to recover. A morning on the driving range made me wonder if I should start all over. Deer grazing near the 100 yard flag weren't the least intimidated by my flying balls. I joined the Women's Golf Association while taking my lessons, but until I can establish my handicap I will be considered only a "social member". That means I can eat and drink with the crowd of ladies, but they won't play with me.
In an effort to stop being left off the playground, I convinced Ol' Abner to play a few rounds with me so my scores can be recorded at the club house. A couple of rounds this week nearly killed us both. My drives are pretty straight but I'm not getting much distance. He's hitting further than he thinks and we spent several minutes on most holes looking for a ball that was actually within an easy stroke from the green. I didn't hit mine far enough to wonder where they were, but at least I stayed out of the sand traps and creeks. I wonder if there is a limit to how big a handicap can be??
Catching up at home, then aging into the next year with a busy holiday weekend to justify the fun, required a couple of lazy days to recover. A morning on the driving range made me wonder if I should start all over. Deer grazing near the 100 yard flag weren't the least intimidated by my flying balls. I joined the Women's Golf Association while taking my lessons, but until I can establish my handicap I will be considered only a "social member". That means I can eat and drink with the crowd of ladies, but they won't play with me.
In an effort to stop being left off the playground, I convinced Ol' Abner to play a few rounds with me so my scores can be recorded at the club house. A couple of rounds this week nearly killed us both. My drives are pretty straight but I'm not getting much distance. He's hitting further than he thinks and we spent several minutes on most holes looking for a ball that was actually within an easy stroke from the green. I didn't hit mine far enough to wonder where they were, but at least I stayed out of the sand traps and creeks. I wonder if there is a limit to how big a handicap can be??
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Driven
My method of auto shopping is totally different from Ol' Abner's. He reads all the auto magazine articles and researches consumer reports in magazines and on-line. He asks his friends and then goes to the lots when sales people aren't around to look at sticker prices. He does the old-fashioned-check-the newspaper-for-ads method and then decides the prices are way too high. I look first at color. When I notice a new color or new version of a classic color, it catches my eye often. Common colors don't interest me. Driving a white car has always been anathema. Nevertheless the rich pearl white that appeared a few years ago, only available on some luxury models, was a color I found very appealing.
After my recent "check engine" experience while at daughter's house, Ol' Abner has been seriously kicking tires again. He keeps directing me to some brands I've never tried...or wanted to try! Some of them do come in rather nice colors, but they are paired with the ugliest interior colors. I'm not having it!
I still like my like my car just fine, and that color is no longer available. A couple of lengthy road trips are in the near future. I feel his sense of urgency to replace my good gas mileage with another economical but comfy ride. Now how does he know what meets his standard of comfort if he hasn't even driven one?
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