Pick, Chop, Cook, Smile, Repeat

As soon as the Autumn chill is in the air, I wait for one special day that calls to me and tells me: "Hey, it's time to start cooking." That day finally arrived last weekend on a rainy, chilly day that was just begging to be filled with chopping, cooking, and gratitude.

There is something about harvest time that calls to all creatures, animal as well as humans. In fact, it was by watching the animals that humans learned what to harvest, how to put food away for the winter, and how to reap all the blessings that Mother Nature gave us. For me, as soon as the harvest is in and the baskets in the farmers markets are filled to bursting ... and the pumpkins come out ... my fingers just itch to get started. Our prolonged Indian Summer kept pushing that further and further back until last weekend. I knew as soon as I opened the curtains and the window for a breath of fresh morning air, heard the rain and felt the chill, that my day had finally arrived.

Squash, potatoes, root vegetables. Soup, stew, veggie toppings for pasta, all of it appeared on my cutting board. There is something so therapeutic about chopping vegetables, seeing the colors come to life under my knife and the smells reach out to me. Soups are my absolute favorite things to cook and freeze. An old recipe of my mother's for using up zucchini, tomatoes, and onions to toss with spaghetti is another (no written recipe, just years of sitting at the kitchen table watching her work her magic while I did my homework). An unexpected offering in the market last week of asparagus, a bit late in the season but, what the heck, also ended up on the cutting board to be sauteed with garlic and mushrooms, simmered in a dribble of veggie broth and tossed with penne pasta and sprinkled with cheese. Butternut squash was roasted, boiled, and fried, some ending up in the freezer, some on my plate for dinner. I had to stop when I started having trouble closing the door on my little apartment-sized freezer. My next batch of cooking will have to wait a few weeks, I guess.

I noticed a long time ago that when I am chopping and cooking, I am also smiling. I take long, deep breaths to enjoy the smells coming out of my tiny kitchen. All the drugs in the world can't begin to compare with the feelings of warmth, home, and personal satisfaction I get from this. Mother Nature provided and I reaped the benefits. That's a pretty good partnership if you ask me. 

And so it is.

Update in the ongoing turf war I told you about last week: Mama Squirrel got the upper hand this morning by using her little brain ... she brought Dad along! Bigger and faster, he escorted her home with her morning nut from the back yard, followed her inside, and then stood guard when six grackles tried to scare her out. You should have seen those birds scatter when Dad came thrashing out! Score one for the squirrel family!

Lessons From A Turf War

If you've been following my blog for a while, you know that I often talk about watching the little squirrel family that lives in the ceiling of the porch roof of the house right across from the window where I sit each day at my desk to write (and sometimes just daydream). I would imagine it is some pretty prime real estate because there are nice pockets in between the joists and beams to build a snug nest and stash food. In fact, at this time of year, I usually watch her carrying in nuts from the trees out back or whatever else she's managed to find. Then in late winter and early summer, she nests and brings forth her babies. This year, however, things are not going well for the squirrel family. There is a nasty turf war going on between them and what I refer to as "the bullies" of the neighborhood, namely, a flock of grackles that have decided to move in and take over.

Grackles are fierce-looking birds that look like crows only not quite as large. They are loud, and travel in large colonies. They are particularly disliked by farmers because they are their #1 threat to the corn fields. There are corn fields all around my town only a few miles away so our neighborhood is a nice, safe place to hide from the angry farmers.  Although they usually live in warmer climates, they move north during the summer. As it has been unusually warm here in upstate New York, they have not made much of a move to fly south with the rest of the birds yet. They usually travel in packs like gangs and, when threatened, can be very aggressive. A neighbor of mine was out walking her tiny dog and one of them made a dive for her head. They must have passed to close and felt more threatened by my neighbor lady than her dog. Anyway, they have been watching the comings and goings of Mother Squirrel very closely lately and have been doing their best to scare her out of her home. They invade it when she is out foraging, and chase her when she comes near it. They usually leave at least one bird on guard during the day and it is not unusual to see this poor furry creature making a run for home when his back is turned. She will hide out there for hours until the coast is clear and she can venture out for food. 

Personally, I can't wait until the gang gets tired of the cold and moves on but I know they will be back when spring comes and it will start all over again. There is a part of me that does not wish these birds kind thoughts because, as a mom and a grandma (and a great-grandma), my sympathies lie with Mother Squirrel. On the other hand, as someone who is a staunch supporter of animal rights and preservation, how can I wish harm to come from creatures that are just trying to survive just like everyone else? Perhaps what we've done to the environment has turned these birds from just a normal bunch of folks to angry, hungry, scared creatures whose only thought is for survival at any cost?

This whole thing puts a whole different perspective on what is going on in the world with humans. For the most part, people are just trying to survive. They all want the same things: a safe home, security, food, and love. Anything that threatens those things will sometimes turn perfectly nice people into folks who will do whatever it takes to get what they believe they need. If someone were trying to take away your home and security, wouldn't you do the same? 

Perhaps it's time we stopped fighting over what we perceive as lack of and start working together to make more of what everyone needs. We need to do more to clean up the water and air, build safe, affordable housing, make sure everyone has access to a decent way to earn a living, and preserve what is left of our natural world before it is all gone. Humans need to remember that the Mother Earth will survive just fine without them, but they cannot survive without her. It's time to stop being the neighborhood bullies and start being the neighborhood heroes.

And so it is. 

Gathering Nuts

There is row of black walnut trees surrounding the property where I live. Our parking lot out back is filled with smashed husks and skins that have fallen from the trees and been smashed by the cars coming in and out. However, our resident squirrels seem to truly appreciate the fact that the cars are opening the nuts up for them so they don't have so much work to do. As it is, they have been scurrying back and forth, up and down, collecting the nuts and storing them for the winter ahead. The daytime temperature outside may have been on the warm side lately ... like in the 70's for a week at a time ... but the squirrels obviously know something we don't. Personally, I'll take my cues from the squirrels rather than the weather folks every time.

While I don't collect nuts, I do take this time to start my annual cooking and freezing adventure. It starts with my going to the farmers market and the cider mill nearby and picking up several different kinds of squash, the last of the tomato crop, and the makings for stews and soups like carrots, celery, and onions. Then I spend a week or two cooking and freezing. Some squashes are mashed or roasted and freeze easily. The zucchini is cooked with onions and tomatoes for my mother's famous spaghetti topping and frozen in individual containers for several separate meals. One day will be devoted to all things soup and stew where the carrots, onions, celery and sometimes lentils come into play. Homemade vegetable soup, lentil stew and even a vegan chili all end up in containers in my freezer. Although I have a small freezer, I have learned how to pack a lot in it. If all else fails and I have gone overboard, I can always ask my dear daughter, she who owns a chest freezer, to rent some space. 

So what is it with our need to stock up for the winter? Are there no stores open out there anymore? Sure there are although recently we have been facing shortages on certain supplies due to the pandemic and a shortage of workers and ingredients, but storing for the winter has been something we humans have been doing since humans started walking upright. We took our cues from the animals, like the squirrels, and put food away to keep us fed over the winter. Even though I don't really have to perform this ritual every year, it is something I look forward to. I love hunting through the piles of produce in the market, enjoying the colors and the smells, and finding just the right squash or shiny apple. I love how my home smells when all the cooking is going on. I usually put on some nice, autumn-type music and light candles. Mostly, there is something therapeutic in the chopping and stirring that makes me feel self-sufficient and safe. What can I say? The squirrels and I are having a wonderful time!

And so it is. 

Make Me One With Everything

I'm sure you've all heard that joke about the Dalai Lama and the hot dog vendor where the Dalai Lama tells the man "make me one with everything." That's what meditation does for me. It makes me one with everything, and there is no better place to allow that into your life than outside in nature. In nature we are, truly, one with everything.

I didn't start meditating seriously until I was in my 50's after a brief acquaintance with it back in the 70's when everyone else was doing it. When I took up yoga for my health, meditation just seemed to follow along naturally and it has been my constant companion ever since. When I've "fallen off the wagon," so to speak, and not set my intention to practice every day, my life doesn't feel quite the same. I can set the tone for my entire day by starting it with quiet, breathing, and listening. Nowhere does this pay off more than doing it in nature, either outside if possible, or at least in front of a window where you can bathe in the sounds of the morning starting to stir, and the air kissing your face. My favorite morning music comes from the blue jays calling to one another, the crows cawing as they cross the sky, and even on a rainy day like this one is today, the sound of the raindrops on the window. The air smells fresh and clean, and it cleans my soul as well. Meditation and nature go together and make the entire experience more beautiful.

For those of you who swear you can't meditate, take 10 minutes early one morning before the noise and traffic of the day begins and just sit .... and breathe ... and listen ... and smile. If you can do that, you're meditating. There are as many ways to mediate as there are people who do it. So why not join the morning chorus and greet the day with bliss?

And so it is. 

The First Leaves of Autumn

One morning last week I was sitting in my usual spot, my desk that sits in front of the big window and overlooks the street and the hills beyond. Lately I've been immersed in working on a new book (my first real novel that I'm actually going to publish), when a movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention. I looked up bleary-eyed from the screen and saw a perfect, beautiful, gold and orange leaf float gracefully past my window on the morning breeze. It was then that I actually took the time to look up and out into the distance to see that, indeed, the colors of fall had arrived in my neighborhood!

I can't imagine that I let myself get so caught up in my work that I was missing what was going on right in front of my nose. Me? The frustrated gardener/nature girl? What was even more ironic was the fact that my novel takes place in the fall, and I had gone to great lengths to describe the colors, the scents, and the scenery ,,, in the book! While I was writing about it, I was missing it, until Mother Nature sent that little colorful messenger floating past my window to remind me to "look up and see what you're missing."

With all that has gone on and is still going on, we should not become so caught up in fear and worry that we forget to avail ourselves of Mother Nature's natural medicine for uplifting our spirits and feeding our souls, namely nature itself. Especially at this time of year, the colors of autumn can nourish and invigorate our lives so that we can move forward. Call it Mother Nature's sensory shot of Vitamin D! It's free, it's readily available, there are no shortages, and you can take it with you wherever you go. I'd like to see Amazon match that!

And so it is.

The Gift Of A Foggy Morning

I live in a valley three blocks from a branch of the Chenango River in Upstate New York. Once August has made its final exit, the early mornings always start with a thick blanket of fog. Before all of the cars and buses head out for the day, the morning is filled with a silence that seems much heavier than before. The fog muffles the sounds and distorts it so that, without being able to see anything but only hear, we could be in some strange, distant land for all we know. Of course it speaks to the child in me that still loves a good fantasy.

The other morning I was sitting at my desk quite early trying to see my beloved hills in the distance when I heard the sounds of two blue jays calling to one another. Because of the fog, the calls weren't as sharp and distinctive as they would be a few hours later when it all cleared out. They sounded like they were searching for each other, each one lost and alone looking for comfort. It reminded me of what we humans can be like when we let someone or something distort what we see and hear. The news, the politicians, and all of the constant barrage of negative talking blankets our senses so that everything we see and hear is distorted by fear and anxiety. 

It occurred to me that morning that, once the fog was blown away by the morning breeze and melted by the appearance of the rising sun, those two blue jays would be just fine. Maybe we should take a lesson from them, and from old Mother Nature, by blowing away the fog of negativity and fear, and letting the light of the rising sun every morning burn off any doubts we may have that we will be able to find our way, to each other and to happy, productive, and positive lives. Perhaps the fog in our lives is as easy to burn off as turning off the TV and internet, and joining the blue jays outside in the light of a new day. After all, the birds know a heck of a lot more than we do. They should, they've been here longer. Food for thought, folks!

And so it is. 

An Apple A Day

 

One of the things I love most about September, besides cooler mornings, the sight of school buses going up and down the block, and that first hint of color on the leaves, is the official start of apple season. Apples are a big deal around here. I live within driving distance of two big apple farms that let us go and pick our own apples out in the glorious countryside. I am also located about an hour south of the home of those delicious Cortland apples. And, as I have shared here before, I am only a few blocks from our local claim to apple fame, the Cider Mill, which not only sells cider, apples, donuts, and everything apple, but lets you see for yourself how the cider and the donuts are made ... and, of course, there are baskets and baskets of every kind of apple you can think of. Yep, you could say that we're the apple capital of New York!

What is it about apples that brings a smile to most faces? I can remember being a kid, opening my lunch box at school and being delighted to see a nice, shiny apple waiting for me along with my sandwich. I have wonderful memories of apple picking, apple festivals, and spending a whole day with family members making applesauce. When I am in the presence of apples, my whole self smiles inside and out.

I have to wonder if maybe there was a reason that, as a child, the story of Adam and Eve always showed the forbidden fruit being an apple? Or if there was some nobler reason why Johnny Appleseed went across the country planting apple trees? One thing is for sure and that is that apples loom large in American culture. I don't know if we have an official national fruit the same way we have a national bird, but if we decide to "pick" one, I vote for the apple hands down. Nothing says love like an slice of warm apple pie and a glass of milk!

And so it is.