Wednesday, September 3, 2014
One of my favorite things about visiting family in Vermont is the way people fall into a rhythm of preparing and eating food together. There's something magical about how the ritual seems to enable quiet conversation while hands busy themselves with chopping, shredding and mixing ingredients, everyone loosely working towards a common goal.
My mother has always kept a rather healthy, varied garden. You might try to explain this farm-to-table trend to her by saying, "You know, what you've always done." Every Labor Day, she prepares a feast consisting of tomatoes, carrots, onions and potatoes from her garden. And dessert consists of some baked dish including her blueberries or apples from the neighbor's tree -- because he doesn't pick them, and that's not stealing, is it? I love the experimental nature of it all. If you have too many zucchinis, they just might end up in your morning pancakes.
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
I have taken the top picture before. My sisters and I have made it an annual tradition to climb Wheeler Mountain. It is not the tallest mountain in Vermont, by any stretch, but that is not to say it makes for easy climbing. I have the same reaction every time I reach the base of the granite peak. I don't know how to do this. I could take the easy path to the left ... but no. Taking the easy way would be to deny myself something. And then you start, and find it gets easier as you learn to negotiate the smooth slope. When you get to the top the view is magnificent, and you feel grateful for challenging yourself to do something hard -- and succeeding. You find that this, THIS, is where life is really happening, and where you can find the answers to some of life's more difficult questions.