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Tonights collection of carved pumpkins, in honor of All Hallows Eve, is brought to you courtesy of the amazingly talented students from the Kansas City Art Institute. They are on display right now at the Crestwood Shops in Kansas City.
I don't know how long they will be there. But the window shopping all along there is simply marvelous. Don't forget the best lemon cake in all of KC is at Cafe Europa. Oh and the tea shop is delightful. Plus the orchids were on sale at the florist as well.
Boo!
While out galavanting around town, in my neighborhood, and all points in between hither and yon recently, these are the things that made me swoon. A holiday place setting, a cat, leaves, the "everyday bowl" at the filling station coffee garage in KC (midtown location), and what may be the last of my roses for the season.
Actually, I could wax poetic on the insane deliciousness of that everyday bowl for another paragraph or two. Instead I will just say that the combination of kefir, cooked quinoa, sliced banana, blueberries, toasted sesame seeds, spiced honey, and peanut butter is not a combination that I would have normally considered nirvana inducing. I was so wrong. It is my life's mission to inform the masses. Starting with you.
About 11 days ago, I collected what I was certain was the last bouquet of zinnia's for the season. A perfect collection of random colors that blend together like this was all planned.
Then 5 days ago I went out to "freshen things up" by adding a few new blooms and collected enough for another whole vase of flowers.
Sage, rosemary, and mint were added as fillers. They also smell wonderful.
I almost just made the mistake of saying again, that this was my last bouquet of zinnias. But since I still have one final area that has yet to be cut down. I shall refrain. This is Kansas after all. Where the weather changes at the drop of a hat, and one more sunny day could bring about something unexpected.
One day recently, when it was lovely and sunny out, before the leaves did their thing, when the mums were looking festive, and the butterflies were floating, and their was a tiny bit of morning frost on the lamb's ears, the Prairie Makers got together for some inspiration.
There was also the Kauffman Garden cat to visit and lunch out. Don't you just love a tea service that looks like this? The pot, the cup, the lemon, the spoon, the tea leaves in their special pouch that is not paper. All contained on a gleaming surface of more white. It's just so refined yet not over the top. It made me stop at the tea shop next door to the cafe and buy a few ounces of Earl Gray. For when I feel the need for simple pampering.
I did not buy this lovely pillow to tuck behind my back, nor the throw to spread over my legs while I sip the tea, but I can always dream about making them. Which is what a day of inspiration is all about.
Though I did not complete my "summer reading" within the technical confines of summer, it was concluded before the first snowfall, which seems equally good to me.
Mrs. Everything by Jennifer Weiner was reserved from the library several months ago when I saw it was a must read. There was a bit of a wait for it. Apparently everyone else saw that it was a must read too. It's the story of two sisters growing up in the 60's and 70's, trying to figure out their places in the family and the world. The author used the format of going back and forth between the two main characters, which is one I like.
Conclusion: I thought it was a good read/listen, maybe not a must read. But it did keep my interest from start to finish, and that's saying something.
It feels like this far into October there should be more photos of orange stuff on this blog. That means today is catch up day. Pumpkins, gourds, mums. All jumbled up together, solely for the purpose of celebrating orange-ness.
Which reminds me I have not made a pumpkin pie yet this year and it's high time to correct that. And speaking of baking and fall things... did you see this recipe for frosted snickerdoodle bars? Oh heaven help us all.
Part of putting the garden to bed this year was the decision to snap off a few pieces of succulents to use in next year's pots. Even though I have tried this before with geraniums and never succeeded, hope springs eternal.
Some of them were so cute, and would fit in a window sill, so why not?
There was also the two tiny pots (thanks James and Cori) I had that were made for teeny succulents,
and the other ones I found while on a birthday present buying mission, that were simply irresistible.
Pots above can be found at J'Adore in Brookside (along with many other delights - you have been warned).
As with all things gardening related, some are sure to fail and others will survive. They sure look cute all together today though. In all their tiny collectiveness.
I have taken the past 4 weeks to slowly and thoughtfully read through this book. It is one of the most to the point, helpful, practical books I have read on the subject of grief.
Here are some reasons why I think that:
It calls out the wrongness of thinking that grief is something to be "gotten over". Who started that myth anyway?
It helped me understand the anger felt about some of the things people say (or even worse when friends/family never say a thing) after the death of a loved one.
It includes practical advice about how to be with someone who has experienced loss. No one knows what to say or do.
There truly are some losses that are more unimaginable than others. This book is helpful in understanding that and the physical responses that accompany loss.
It is well written by a woman who herself has experienced an unbearable loss. This should be required reading for all people. So we can learn to do a better job companioning each other through the difficult times we have been through already, and those we will surely face in the future. If you are grieving and are not sure where to turn, you may want give this book a read. If you care about someone who is grieving, you may want to give this book a read. Please add your thoughts to the conversation if you have read it already, or add them as you read, so we can all continue to learn from each other.
This is the perfect collection of imperfectly beautiful leaves I picked up on our walk when I came home from work on Sunday.
Then I brought them inside for pressing between the pages in a tapas recipe book. Because it is thick, heavy, and the first one I put my hand on. I may put them in my everyday journal. Or not.
These are what the front porch mums look like. Oh the fleeting beauty of fall. I told Chris I was just going to move out on the front porch to spend as much time as possible with it.
Then he reminded me there was not a bed out there, and it might get cold, and he is making ham and beans and cornbread for dinner. At which point I smartened up, took the pictures, and came inside to set the table. And get out the honey for the cornbread.
If you are able to get to a theatre where the Linda Rondstadt documentary, The Sound of My Voice, is playing, you must go. In particular if you are between the ages of 50 and 65, growing up with her records playing on your dorm-room stereo, or on the juke box at the local beer joint, you will thoroughly enjoy it.
Chris and I saw it at Liberty Hall in Lawrence and were happy to participate in the spontaneous clapping at the end of the film. Such a voice.
While we were down in southern Missouri/northern Arkansas, in addition to cemetery sprucing, curvy road driving, scenic point stopping, beer/wine drinking, and story-telling (as if that wasn't enough) we also went to the place we used to put our toes in the water along the Buffalo River. It was right where we left it when last Angie, Mary Ann, and I visited sometime in the mid 1990's.
As beautiful as ever, I might add.
The annual Moss Family putt-putt tournament was held for the 5th year. Brother tried to intimidate us with scowls and trash talking about how he has reigned supreme the last 2 years.
All to no avail.
Chris won this year, setting a new low score for the tournament. As the winner, he paid for lunch which is written into the bylaws of the event.
A trip was made to the butterfly palace, triggered by stories about the time Angie and Sister went many moons ago, which had always made me want to visit.
Fierce Mexican Train dominoes and Farkle competitions were held. We keep score. And follow the rules (ha!).
And if all that wasn't enough, we also sat for a group photo. Or two. Possibly three.
Which I tell Brother and Chris, every year, they will be happy they have later, so "just be quiet and go along with it". Cheryl and Dottie tend to be most cooperative; understanding the value of such things.
Since we both know that we each have already begun to eat the delightful combination of candy corn and salty cocktail peanuts, known as "October crack", I decided to go ahead and post a photo of it today.
Because this ridiculous (and simultaneously cute) container only comes out once a year, it seems fair to give it a full month out of the cupboard before returning it to hibernation. Can you refer to an inanimate object as hibernating?
My preferred ratio is at least 2 whole peanuts to one piece of "corn", but of course that is a personal matter. Since the candy is made up of 100% sugar, it definitely needs the salt to balance things out.
Chris, head researcher at Tall Tales Headquarters, told me today it was invented in the 1880's by George Renninger and was at one time called "chicken feed". I have included these facts here in case you ever find yourself in need of such knowledge while participating in a cut-throat trivia challenge.
As fall marches along, and the frosts get harder, I worry each week that this will be be last farmers market.
There are less vendors and less shoppers, but the mood in the fall is upbeat. Anticipation of holidays to come, smoke coming out of chimneys, pumpkins to carve and eat.
Chestnuts roasting are a sure signal of the season.
As are sweet potatoes for hearty stews.
But clearly the muffler and shark hat combination wins the prize for most indicative sign of the presence of cooler weather.
You have to appreciate the wisdom at her young age of the nose guard wrap technique.
Despite the cold there were also these amazingly gorgeous dahlias at the market this past week.
And who doesn't love a warty pumpkin/gourd
I also find myself buying a new bottle of honey each week. Stocking up for the winter months.
If you are going to be in Lawrence on December 14th, you won't want to miss the annual holiday market. It's perfect for getting any of your unfinished Christmas shopping done. Or like me, you can just get every single thing you need for holiday gift-giving here. All at once. Consider yourself advised.
Here is something you haven't seen for awhile on this blog. A photo of Lewis, brother of Clark, dearly beloved and long time departed from our home, but never from our hearts.
Last night I had the most wonderful dream about him. He came bounding across the field when he saw me out back and I swooped him up in my arms. I brought him inside and lavished him with every endearment I have wanted to give him for the past 6 years since he has been gone. It was an incredibly realistic dream. I could feel and smell him, hear his rumbly purr. I awoke this morning appreciative and thankful for the experience. Since we can not "program" these kinds of dreams, I am always so happy when they happen. A momentary visit with a dear one.
For this opportunity to talk about Lewis again and show his picture, I am so grateful. Like all the loves of my life, here or gone, it feels good to have them be present in my life through stories.
We went to the "Ozark Grand Canyon" aka the "Arkansas Grand Canyon" when we were down that way a few weeks ago. The views are spectacular, the signs informative, and the photo ops plentiful.
After you recover from the super windy roads you had to travel to get to this scenic point, go into the little store and get yourself a bottle of water or cold pop for one dollar. While you are at it, pick up a jar of chow-chow to accompany the next cheese plate you put together.
In the event that you might have missed it, consider this your notification that "mustard colored clothing season" is officially upon us.
Nancy and Hailey want you to know that it begins the minute "white pant wearing season" is over and runs right up until 2 weeks before it's time to get your easter bonnets out. I don't know where they get their information, but I don't question it. Neither should you.
The pumpkins and mums were as pretty as ever at Big Cedar Lodge this year. For a true fall lover like myself, it is pure paradise.
We always love to go on walks/hikes there, and while we are walking, recall all the other walks we have taken there through the years. This is what happens when you get older. If it hasn't happened to you yet... it will.
On the second day of our visit, I asked Dottie "do you want me to tell you the plan for the walk today or shall I just take you?" My plan was for a good looooong walk and I didn't want to scare her, but on the other hand, I thought she might want to know what I was thinking.
The next day she did the same thing to me except her plan was even better. She took me to the trails they used to maintain in the woods which (much to our chagrin) are now closed. Except, we found our way through much of it anyway - it was earlier in the year and there were less leaves on the ground, so it was easier than last year.
Dottie is going to write them a letter about the trails, and how important it is for people to get out in the woods. Back to nature, on a trail. She is a good writer. I foresee them wanting us to come down and share our ideas with them. Probably they will end up wanting us to plan the trails and lead the hikes. But if they do not, we have a back up plan. That includes packing loppers. The high performance kind.
P.S. let's just keep this among ourselves for now.
Since returning home, in addition to eating chocolate pie, we are back to normal activities. Settling into home routines. Taking morning walks with increased vigor to combat pie calories as well as to revel in the cool morning temperatures.
The last bouquets of the season are being gathered in advance of the big garden clean up that must begin soon.
This visitor was helping clean up the last of the parsley today. How beautiful is he/she?
The bougainvillea is over the top right now with color.
The foliage on the zinnias is starting to look "powdery" but the flowers remain plentiful.
Vacations are wonderful, but there is no place like home. Even, and maybe especially, in the fall when the seasons are turning.
These last few days, while down in Arkansas, Dottie and Ray and I have had numerous discussions about Aunt Mabel's chocolate pie.
Mostly about how delicious it was and how vividly we remember her making it for us when she came up from Louisiana to visit us in South Carolina, sometime around 1968 or 69.
As soon as we got home from the trip, the recipe came out for a test run. It has been many many years since I made it.
Aunt Mabel is seated to the left of Dad in the white wicker chair. Aunt Pauline and Aunt Lois are to the left of her. Dad's sisters loved their baby brother. There was nothing they wouldn't do for him. Including making things like fried chicken, biscuits, and pie.
Thanks for you help with the meringue Christy. It's good to have a pie maker to consult when needed.
This is NOT a gourmet chocolate pie. What it is is simple, wonderful, easy, and full of love from Aunt Mabel.
If you want something fancy, don't make this. If you want something special, do make this.
If 26 years after you are dead and gone, someone remembers that you made really good chocolate pie, and left amazingly generous portions in the pot for your nieces who were licking the pot, I would say that is the sign of a life well lived.
Recipe below as it was told to me by Aunt Mabel.
We just got back from the annual pilgrimage to Arkansas to spruce up the cemetery and be together as a family, remembering times gone by, re-telling stories, making new memories.
Cheryl is the chief flower arranger.
Brother trims the grass and is in charge of bringing the bourbon. This year he also brought music. Which he has been instructed is to be done every year. Without fail.
Chris is the headstone cleaner.
Dottie, the photographer.
As head supervisor in charge of everything I was moving to fast to be photographed. We all did some leg-shaking as well. Mom and Dad loved to dance and would have highly approved of this.
A golf tee was left for dad, a twisty for mom, and the special white rock Sister sent from Lummi Island was still there too.
Then it was time for one more story, followed by brother complaining about the picture taking, and finally glasses were raised in thanks for all Ray and Angie have done (and are still doing) for each of us.
Over the years this ritual has become a comfort to all of us. Knowing we can count on this time together, building a tradition that will continue for as long as we are able.
While flipping through mail on the iPad the other day, catching up on things marked "read" because they may contain a nugget of vital importance, I stumbled upon this.
image from NYT cooking
While the image was enough to stop me in my tracks, it was the name "baked artichoke pasta with creamy goat cheese" that had me trying to figure out how quickly I could make it, and who would want to eat it with me. Sisters, it will have to be the two of you. While I prepare it for us, Dottie you will be in charge of salad, Mary Ann you will slice and warm the crusty loaf of bread. A decision has not yet been made about a bottle of cabernet or a bottle of sauvignon blanc to accompany it.
If you want to make it with your sisters - I have posted a link to the recipe below. Thank you Melissa Clark and the New York Times for what certainly looks (and sounds) like a recipe for the ages... and reinforces my need to keep marking things "to read" because you never know when something like this will turn up.
baked-artichoke-pasta-with-creamy-goat-cheese
Posts may be sporadic, or they may be regular, or they may be non-existent (I should have stopped at sporadic?) for the foreseeable future as we head out on an adventure down in Arkansas. Before I go though, here are some things that have been happening lately that will be outdated by the time I get back.
If you live in the KC area, and don't go to Plate and get some of the butterscotch/caramel budino pictured above, you will not have lived the fullest life possible. Which we all want to do.
Lastly, and this is especially for you Nancy, are these shoes spotted in a window downtown in Lawrence. The store was closed or else I would have certainly gone in and purchased them for you. As it is you will have to go and get them for yourself. No, I can't remember the name of the store. But it was on the east side of the street in the 1000 block. I think.
