Archive for the ‘photography’ Category

Is it really fall?

I know it is fall — after all, it’s October 20th and the stores are filled with Halloween candy and other spooky supplies.  The days are getting shorter and the weather is rainy, cloudy and cool more often than sunny and warm.

Despite that, my roses are still blooming (I took these pictures on Sunday, October 18th),



and there are even buds on some of the bushes.


At the same time, the leaves are turning on the trees in the yard.




So you can see why I am confused.

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I’ve been thinking about a post about what, other than food, makes a good restaurant experience great.  But that’s not what this post is about.


I’ve also been thinking about a post about the sudden, and in my opinion, untimely, demise of Gourmet magazine (we got our final issue this week — well, actually, we got our final two issues this week because somehow, in a fit of over-eagerness, we ended up with two subscriptions for the past six months and never canceled the second one because it was about to expire anyway).



But that’s not what this post is about either. In fact, it’s not really a post about anything in particular.


Let’s just call it a chance to post a few recent photos taken around the house on a rainy fall Sunday.






tileNow I feel better.

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Beautiful things


I feel lucky to live in a house surrounded by beautiful things.  Especially beautiful things that remind me of places I have been and people I love.


I remember these golden glasses from when I was a little girl growing up in St. Louis and listening to my parents talk about the year they spent in Mexico right after they were married.


This story, as I remember it, began in Iowa City where my parents were living at the time.  They boarded the train there, stopped in St. Louis to get married (never imagining that they would end up moving there only a few years later), and ended up, after 7 months in Mexico City, in what was at the time the small, off-the-beaten-path, mountain town, budding artists’ colony, of San Miguel de Allende.   I don’t know where my parents got these glasses, whether they bought them for themselves or received them as a gift, but they came home with them.


In 1973 my parents returned to San Miguel, this time in a VW bus loaded with three children, two manual typewriters, and everything our family needed for a year in Mexico.  During that year (I was in the 8th grade) I stopped sulking about leaving my friends in St. Louis and learned how to bargain with vegetable sellers in the open air market, how to make tortillas in front of the fireplace, and to love Mexico as much as my mother and father did.


I brought many things home from my year in Mexico; somehow these glasses from my parents’ first shared trip there hold the memories that matter.

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