I said farewell to the farmer’s market this morning, and prepare to say farewell to Daylight Savings Time tonight. Coupled with the cruel gusts of wind that strip the last colorful leaves off the trees, these goodbyes are almost too much for my heart to handle. This fall has been a season of goodbyes, and it’s taking a toll.
So tonight I settle in with John Mayer’s new CD and a mug of hot cocoa (1 TBS Valrhona cocoa to 2 tsp sugar, a splash of vanilla, and milk) as a snack while I browse through my *Gourmet* cookbook for dinner inspiration. I have some buttermilk to use, and I weigh the benefits of biscuits versus cornbread. Though I made cornbread the other night, I can’t resist choosing it again. In my family, cornbread is a first rate comfort food, and some of us have been known to eat half of a small skillet in one sitting. I won’t name anyone in particular:) I decide to roast red pepper and cauliflower with garlic, shallot, and thyme, sauté broccoli and spinach with olive oil, and heat up some vegetarian baked beans (I make a note to try making a batch homemade one of these days, all rich and bubbling with a brown sugar tomato sauce). This meal would be wonderful with a glass on Pinot Noir, but alas, I’m without. I’ll have to imagine the heady rush of red wine opening up with and to the flavors of the food.
I wish my Aunt and Uncle luck tomorrow, as they run their first marathon. I’m so proud of them, and full of admiration. I wish I had the fortitude to go that distance, but my successful half marathon run at the beginning of this month taught me that I can go that distance, but don’t much care to run farther.
Job concerns have been weighing heavy on my mind, as it’s the season to apply to endless jobs with a flurry of energy and, at best, realistic optimism. For me, this is the year that will decide my future path, which is both liberating and very sad at the same time. I’m not ready to leave this place, but am ready to leave this job. I’m not ready to say goodbye to the rarified world of academia, but am ready for new challenges. I’m not ready for winter, but am ready for the promise of spring.