Little puffy clouds in a row as the sun goes down, yesterday.
Again, the dirty oven doesn't show up when I am checking on these... when will technology catch up so you can smell them?
That does it, I said, after watching the Presidential Debate last night, and being forewarned that this coming Thursday is the Vice-Presidential Debate. It is time that I get my essay finished. I may do some practicing here. Maybe not. Maybe this is my haven, for musing and laughing and showing off my pies.
This time of year makes me happy. I want to make soup, and stew, and pies. We are having a "Garden Party" next door, making Pot Luck out of our produce. Of course, I did not grow the wheat for the pastry, nor did I churn the butter, or process the sugar. Other than that, I did pick the apples and the blackberries. At the grocery store, a man in line behind me said, "Are you a meat-eater?" I did a minor double-take: what kind of question is that??? Not to worry, he just was excited about a current issue of a cooking magazine with a tantalizing picture of a pot of fabulous looking homemade chili on the cover. "I'm taking this home," he said, "and my wife will say, "Are you cooking tonight?""
My garden is still producing piles of cherry tomatoes. The sunflowers are curving closer and closer to the ground. Many birds are enjoying the seeds, and barely fly away when I wander out looking for a fig or two.
Things aren't always as they seem. Paradise exists in the backyard, next door, down at the river, in the sky beyond the power lines. Paradise exists beyond what can be seen, or heard, or even smelled. Now there is a topic... the world to which our senses lead.
Dinner! Chilled wine! Good company! The garden.... and the senses are leading here!