Wind and Rain
So beautiful, Fall. Autumn has made it's powerful way into the landscape, the colours breathtaking, snow on the mountains stunning and warm soups and stews becoming our family staple. Mushroom picking is grinding to a halt, but this year was one of the best in the last two decades.
This season drives us back indoors, more often choosing a nap over a walk. We have reinstated the status of our duvet on the bed, instituted our wool sweaters and long pants. And I, even I, am wearing shoes not sandals. Well, sometimes.
Today, there is a bubbling pot of homemade soup, rich in legumes, kale and carrots and warm flavours. This will be my second pot of soup this week, an unusual occurrence. There are pumpkin tarts on the counter and a delicious loaf of whole grain bread on the counter, soft and tasty, to eat with the soup. All day, the slow preparations for our Feast of Thankfulness have been at the forefront of my energies. The beets are being precooked, so I can peel and store them ready for cooking on Monday. The potatoes will be cubed and placed into water tonight, broccoli ready in bite-sized pieces. Making the stuffing ahead of time will also be helpful, cubes of bread combined with pine mushrooms, celery and onion and flavoured with garlic, sage and thyme in its buttery resonance. The flavours will have time to meld that way too.
I think of the song in Isaiah, about those who wait. I know the waiting mentioned is an active waiting, a preparation, much like the farmer who harvests in the summer, but works all year round for the harvest. I am waiting on a baby. The baby is being waited on by it's own parents, who have been preparing hearts and minds, home and hearth for this new little member of their family. Preparation and waiting are not thought of as interchangeable, one seeming static and the other dynamic, but I think of this day of preparation, this time of waiting, for thanksgiving, for new life. We celebrate this day, this Feast of Thankfulness as an act of family togetherness, a time where we invite others to share in it. We eat, but more than that, we share. We share relationships, we share food, we share our hearts of gratitude. And somehow, we hope the feeling lingers longer than the day itself, a discipline for the days ahead.
I am enjoying this discipline of thankfulness, this heart of gratitude. New life, new friends, family traditions and meals and the time it takes in preparation are all meaning more as I continue to reshape my priorities. With all my heart I can truly say, I am grateful.
This season drives us back indoors, more often choosing a nap over a walk. We have reinstated the status of our duvet on the bed, instituted our wool sweaters and long pants. And I, even I, am wearing shoes not sandals. Well, sometimes.
Today, there is a bubbling pot of homemade soup, rich in legumes, kale and carrots and warm flavours. This will be my second pot of soup this week, an unusual occurrence. There are pumpkin tarts on the counter and a delicious loaf of whole grain bread on the counter, soft and tasty, to eat with the soup. All day, the slow preparations for our Feast of Thankfulness have been at the forefront of my energies. The beets are being precooked, so I can peel and store them ready for cooking on Monday. The potatoes will be cubed and placed into water tonight, broccoli ready in bite-sized pieces. Making the stuffing ahead of time will also be helpful, cubes of bread combined with pine mushrooms, celery and onion and flavoured with garlic, sage and thyme in its buttery resonance. The flavours will have time to meld that way too.
I think of the song in Isaiah, about those who wait. I know the waiting mentioned is an active waiting, a preparation, much like the farmer who harvests in the summer, but works all year round for the harvest. I am waiting on a baby. The baby is being waited on by it's own parents, who have been preparing hearts and minds, home and hearth for this new little member of their family. Preparation and waiting are not thought of as interchangeable, one seeming static and the other dynamic, but I think of this day of preparation, this time of waiting, for thanksgiving, for new life. We celebrate this day, this Feast of Thankfulness as an act of family togetherness, a time where we invite others to share in it. We eat, but more than that, we share. We share relationships, we share food, we share our hearts of gratitude. And somehow, we hope the feeling lingers longer than the day itself, a discipline for the days ahead.
I am enjoying this discipline of thankfulness, this heart of gratitude. New life, new friends, family traditions and meals and the time it takes in preparation are all meaning more as I continue to reshape my priorities. With all my heart I can truly say, I am grateful.
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