In these unsettling and most peculiar times I look for diversions
like contemplating a lovely dessert with blackberries and figs
or maybe quinces – but am not certain what I would do with the quinces. I like the look and the name but not the taste really.
Apples are easy but the Winesaps won’t be here until next week.
Teeny, tiny pears all sheeny with wetness.
Then I’m delighted by pinkness and buy dahlias which will only last three days – but lots of nice things last even less time than that.
Oh my! what a dazzle for the eye!
The mescalun looks as if it has been arranged – but it hasn’t.
Romanesco is worth mediating on – all Fibonacci and architectural – look at the little group of singers at the top in their soft green dresses under the coral overhang – or make up another story entirely. Or, according to Mee (the friend who did the cookbook) bake it inside a Godzilla cake and astound the kiddies.
An orange nose has poked itself into the ghost gourds.
This decorative gourd is all warty and weird – maybe it’s enchanted. In the end I brought the dahlias home and took their photo on the dining table.
And that was my morning avoiding watching the news or doing any writing or anything remotely useful. And so we go on!
October is one of my favorite months – the beginning of the turning of the year and a little bit decaying and mystical…
Nothing like an old baking sheet background for gloomy…
This is a sunflower squash
posing as a space alien.
These are some pears
and more pears
and a pomegranate from a street cart and flowers from Bobby’s garden.
Some meadow flowers hanging on to summer at the green market
but pumpkin season is upon us
and an eggplant with some sort of message –
when we get to the beach
I find a poor fishy who is unlikely to send any more messages…
Not a good day for going outside…except possibly to go to the greenmarket where I find
interesting patterns on the rutabagas –
and whatever these things are…
It is miserable out and one’s hands turn red immediately.
Snow falls on the wool
and the bread…
pears and more pears…
so I go home to make wooly hats
Happy New Year!
A friend has a magic house in the country near the foothills of the Atlas Mountains.
Everything there delights the senses.
We go up to the loggia to drink tea and coffee…
and eat cakes.
We look at the view
then walk out into the garden.
After that a lunch of treed – chicken and veggies on a bed of soft bread.
Then time to reflect in mirrors
and in water.
I’m nostalgic already.