My Mother, Myself

Oh, A,

Scary stuff, standing there in the back corner of the Stop and Shop, looking through the "reduced for quick sale" produce and suddenly seeing how much of my mother I have become. Then later, after making a bangin' soup with some of those vegetables, a true testament to her tutelage, I realized that not only could I never deny her influence, but I don't really want to.

In addition to being one of the ways I impersonate my mother, cooking is also one of the ways I create. (I think I've told you this before.) And a cooking burst is usually a prelude to a writing bonanza for me. Especially if I follow The Artist's Way and stop cooking. Oh, and stop reading. Cut myself off from my other creative outlets, and I am sure to write more....Only I don't feel ready for that. Right now, I feel like I have a bit of balance in my life. I cook, I read, I write, I take pictures, and try to make my house look and smell inviting. I get in a funk here and there, but I feel like things are going okay. I'm not sure I'm ready to give anything up yet--especially my time at the stove, or at my cutting board practicing knife skills. In due time.

So, anyway, that's how my day went: bargain grocery shopping, followed by a mid afternoon European picnic of a sort, then a couple of hours in the kitchen making a Provencal vegetable soup (an Ina recipe, with modifications). No shower. Perfect day. And I'm gearing up for another one tomorrow.

Patriots play tomorrow at 1, so--especially if it's raining--I may not leave the house. After a shower and coffee, I'm thinking brunch and mimosas in comfy pjs while I watch the game. I have another bottle of Prosecco in the fridge, some orange juice left over from last Sunday, eggs, bacon, and rye bread on hand. Yay, me!

Signing off for tonight. Looking forward to your pumpkin tales.

Love, B