F-f-f-f-f-frosty

Look at what I saw when I raised the shade this morning.  See that white stuff on the roof across the street?  That's frost.  F.R.O.S.T.  Arrrgh.  None of my plants or flowers seem to have been affected but that's frost nevertheless.  The first day of Autumn and there's a smear of frost on the north-facing roof across the street.  Double arrrgh.

I got a phone call around 9 o'clock this morning from my knitting pal, HH, saying that she was going to the farmer's market and did I want anything.  "Yes," I said, "to go along."  "What?"  "I want to go too.  Should I pick you up or do you want to pick me up?"  Once she got over her shock at the turn of events she said that she'd come get me so I hurried to get dressed, brush my teeth, and stuff some money in my pocket.  I was smart enough to put my keys into my pocket too so I could get back into the house when she dropped me off.  It was a gorgeous day to be at the market, cool and sunny, and I managed to spend my $15 (well, $14 of it anyway) on a lot of onions, some huge bell peppers, two poblano peppers, some pears, a bunch of golden beets, and a bunch of rainbow carrots.  On our way back to her car HH said that she'd planned to stop at a cafe on the corner so we did--and sat there sipping coffee and chatting for 2 1/2 hours.  !!!!!  What a difference that I didn't have to think of how long I was away or shouldn't I be getting home.

Once I got home I gave in to a yearning I've had to make a batch of curried chickpeas and rice for 4 suppers.  It made the house smell marvelous and I can't wait to have some for supper tomorrow.  I flipped through a couple recipe binders looking for the sheet pan supper basic instructions the other day and saw the curried chickpeas one which kicked my simmering yen into high gear.  Happily I had everything needed on hand so I was gearing up when HH called.  It was easy enough to let the rice soak and the chickpeas drain while I was gone and then cook it up and portion it out when I got home.  I'm determined to set myself up for success by having single servings of a variety of suppers ready to thaw, heat, and eat as I'm still finding it almost impossible to cook supper on any given evening.  I've been ignoring the containers of chicken spaghetti I froze last month and the chicken & bean burritos I froze a couple months ago so I'm thinking I might have to rearrange the upstairs freezer so they're all handy and make a list so it smacks me in the face when it's time to pull something out for that evening's repast.  I'm rather shocked at my lassitude.  I was sure that I'd be cooking up a storm and eating like a champ once I was "on my own" but I seem to be unable to pass up cookies (I might have made a double batch of peanut butter with mini chocolate chips cookie-bars last night) and ice cream.  I'll get there--by hook or by crook.

I had to get on a chair to find the package of curry to refill the little jar and ran across some tea that got lost in the back of the cupboard.  I decided to brew up a pot of it to keep in the fridge so I brought up this red teapot I got a few years ago.  I filled that green plastic jug nearly full and poured it into the teapot to heat in the microwave.  That much water did NOT fill the teapot.  The teapot is deceptively large.  It doesn't look like it but it holds close to 8 cups.  Really.  The first time I tried to fill it I swore that it had a lower level where it hid water.  I kept pouring water in and pouring it in and it seemed like I couldn't fill the pot.  Crazy.


When I finished the cardi on Thursday afternoon I realized that I needed a mindless project to take to guild that night so I cast on a Seaman's Church Institute cowl.  A few years ago I got into the habit of knitting one cowl a month to send to them for their Christmas at Sea program and last week when I got stopped by the Mason St. bridge going up and I exchanged waves with one of the sailors on the freighter I was reminded of why I needed to get back to knitting cowls.  I truly love living in a place where ocean-going ships come sailing right through the middle of the city and this is something small I can do to make the sailors' lives a little more bearable in the winter on the Great Lakes and on the Seven Seas.



This week I remembered to order the 2019 Page-a-day Art Gallery calendar and it came yesterday.  I discovered, much to my dismay, a few years ago that if I wait until mid-October to order it chances are it'll be sold out.  Hard to believe that the first time I bought one I got it at Goodwill for $2 and they had a shelf full of them.  I use the pages as my daily prompt and enjoy very much seeing the variety of art they choose.  Speaking of which...



September 22--Frederick Childe Hassam, Autumn Boulevard, Paris.  Overnight the trees shed their leaves.  The steady drizzle pasted the leaves to the streets like ragged carpets.  Lise held her skirts above her ankles to try to keep them from getting muddy in the gutters.  She didn't want to think of the filth, human and otherwise, floating there.  It hadn't been raining when she left home so she had no umbrella, not even a hat.  She'd look like a drowned cat by the time she returned.

Two days ago the air conditioner ran off and on most of the day.  This morning I shut all of the windows and tootsed up the furnace for ten minutes or so just to knock the chill off the house.  *sigh*  What crazy weather we're having.  It was nice mowing the lawn this afternoon in the cooler temps though.
--Barbara