How To Serve A Season: Autumn

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It took growing up for fall to be something I looked forward to. Growing up on the Jersey Shore, itt meant the start of school, the tourists going home after leaving all their money and trash behind, the streets becoming cold and quiet, and the beaches being empty to enjoy any stray warm days after Labor Day.

In college, I got to see the legendary “Hartford in the Fall” and enjoyed the changing leaves, the coziness of hot beverages and fire pits at night, and the death of all the bloodsucking insects that swarmed in the summer.

Now, in the PNW, I get to experience and enjoy autumn on my own terms. I get to wear warmer, fuzzier clothing more. Evenings spent drinking whiskey in my cozy rocking chair are the constant rather than a treat, and IPAs finally start to vanish from taplists to make room for the darker, maltier beers I love.

AND the mosquitos drop dead. Wins all around.

It is Pie Time.
It is Stew Time.
It is Scarves and Hoodies and Shawls and Tweed and Not Making Excuses for Wanting to Stay Home and Be A Hobbit Time.

I’ve still gotta go to work though, so I’m working on sharing as many of those vibes as I can through food.

Basque-Style Pumpkin Cheesecake with Candied Squash, Pomegranate, and Corn Cranberry Florentine. Seasonal dessert I created for Amaterra Winery.
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Listening In On The Anxiety

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Yesterday, I went for a long walk through Mount Tabor Park before it would start raining. It was finally a cooler fall morning and this was to be my workout for the day, so I made a point of enjoying it. I wore my favorite tweed vest combo, my favorite shawl, grabbed my walking stick and just did my Hobbit thing.

I made sure to bring my headphones with me in case I wanted to listen to music or a podcast on the walk, but I didn’t think I would. I haven’t lately, and not for lack of quality in my favorite podcasts. (Seriously, check out Old Gods of Appalachia, especially as we get toward Halloween here in the states.)

Instead, as I mentioned in my last post, I’ve had the time and bandwidth to get more curious about my inner life- how and why my mind does what it does. Historically I’ve used podcasts deliberately to blot out intrusive thoughts, break the anxiety spirals and derail rumination funks that can sap my focus and energy. In other words, they put someone else’s voice in my head when I can’t bear the sound of my own anymore.

They are still excellent for that, but lately I’ve had the energy to explore the “bad neighborhood” parts of my brain and figure out what’s going on in there.

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Making Progress

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I’m sitting at the bar at Toms for one of the first really autumnal days after a bit of a heat wave, just in time for Casey to fix me a Pork Roll, Egg, and Cheese sandwich- then chase it with a stout when they start pouring at noon.

I actually ate breakfast at 7am, but then I successfully ran it off, and proceeded to walk the thirty minutes out here for my Hobbitesque “second breakfast.” Of all the ways to refuel after a run, the PREC is a solid winner.

I’m slowly getting back into my good habits- I’m back to working out daily, eating better/less/smarter, and slimming down a bit. It’s easier to make progress than it has been in a while, and it’s because I have the freedom to slow down, take stock, and learn to accept.

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Nothing Dies For No Reason- #SupportSmallBusiness

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Emily is about to go back to work as schools reopen for the fall semester. Yesterday we hit our favorite food pod for what Emily realized would be the last time she could meet me for a post-shift beer for the semester, and today we hit up a street fair.

Sitting in Belmont Station afterward for beer and writing, flush with the book, pins, stickers, and such we bought from local artists and businesses, I can’t help but think of some of the conversations we’ve had with and about the business owners we know.

One woman is at a farmers market and she makes Haitian marinades and sauces we love. The other day, Emily went by herself and Elsy handed her a new product. “Your husband is going to love this one.”

The owner of one of my favorite taprooms, when I asked for take-home recommendations, would look at the menu and go “I know you go for darker and sour beers, but your wife is gonna love this amber…”

Corporations are not people. Small Businesses are. Small business who have regulars, who know your name and who you build relationships with.

When they vanish, it’s not enough to just write a pseudo-political screed on social media or go “Awww but they’ve been there for so long and they were so good!”

If they were so good… why didn’t you buy from them?

Stickers (and a Monk Class pin) from Hundred Lily
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Jimmy Buffett and a Meditation on Heroes

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He’s the admiral of the ocean
the lone eagle in the sky.
He gave me my first sextant
and he taught me how to fly
I saw him through my telescope
on a cloudless night in June
as he rested between voyages
at his Beach House on the Moon

– Jimmy Buffett, “Beach House on the Moon”

There is no internship for becoming a writer. All we have is the writers and creators we love, their body of work, the will to dive into it voraciously and- ideally- add our own selves to the mix. Back in high school, one of my teachers encouraged all of us to find our literary “genealogies.” We should pick our favorite writers, find their favorite writers and read all their work, then find their favorite writers, and so dive deep into the sources of our own styles.

At the time Mr. Murphy charged us with this task, the majority of my literary heroes were long dead and their heroes were Early Modern or even antiquity. The only remotely contemporary writers I enjoyed at the time were Kerouac and Langston Hughes.

As I sit in a thankfully unfamiliar dive bar patio sipping a memorial margarita, I know that one of my influences has passed on and, in a strange way, I’m glad I never got to meet him.

Fins Up, Parrotheads.

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