I was driving home through a Redwood tree grove and along a pristine river and through a sheer canyon. It was just another commute home after a day working with wonderful children and supportive peers. I was still feeling a bit down and exhausted, the time change making everything feel later than it was. I had absolutely no reason to feel anything less than thankful, but I wasn't feeling it.
When I got home, I decided to drag out the one pumpkin I'd saved from being carved into a Jack-o-lantern and try a new, very old recipe I'd seen that claimed it was the type pumpkin pie that the Pilgrims would have made. It surely wasn't a pie, just a simple egg and cream and sugar flan baked in a pumpkin shell, and it came out very much not tasting of pumpkin. However just that little bit of change, stepping outside the daily routine, seemed to reset my mood and allow me to feel awake and happy again.
I know, sugar is poison, but baking is still one way I feel myself connect to my grandma and my mom. I reach to my roots where my soul is nourished.
Then I got the granddaughter and we went to the park, running between rainstorms to climb and slide and swing. And this local park also has a redwood trail to explore. In this rainy season the slugs and mushrooms are abundant.
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| My mailbox brought me a book written by a facebook friend |
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| My new waffle iron made bowls which demanded a caramel sundae instead of syrup |
And old friends sent me old pictures of my Mom and new pictures of my brother Lance. Life was reminding me, again and again, that it is good to be alive.
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| My Brother and my Niece |
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| My Granddaughter was Princess Poppy Troll for Halloween |
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| Mom and her extended family in about 1946. ! of many old pictures that were sent unexpectedly from an old family friend. |
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| mom |
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| Mom, with her cousins and grandparents |
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| Mom |
So when the rain returned, we simply grabbed the rubber boots and kept on playing.
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