What a gray day — how typical of mid-November. It’s about time: the leaves at last are falling. The scarlet leaves of the white oak (not as brilliant a scarlet this year as they have been sometimes) are all gone, as of last week; the scarlet leaves of the young red oak (which never turned that bright of a color before) are beginning to fade, and fall. Even the alien honeysuckles are finally turning: their green-too-long leaves have paled to chartreuse.
And it’s raining. I drove through the drizzling mist this morning to go grocery-shopping — probably the last bit of food-shopping I’ll be able to afford in a while. Ah well, it was nice while it lasted. But anyway — I went to the store this morning on a quest: to buy the remaining ingredients I’ll need to make a pumpkin pie. As I pushed my cart through the aisles, I was surprised to find that I felt like a kid on Christmas morning: despite the headache I was trying to fight off, despite the dismal weather. I realized there was a song in my heart, and the words to the song were, “I’m going to make a pumpkin pie, I’m going to make a pumpkin pie, I’m going to make a pumpkin pie….” How many years, after all, has it been since I’ve made a pumpkin pie? I can’t remember. I got all excited about making one when, a few weeks ago, I saw a new recipe for one demonstrated on a noontime news show. The ones I made never worked out well before; and they were always too bland, when I wanted more spicy. When they showed how to make this one, I thought, oh, I can do that! That’s easy! It’s also promised not to be bland – then, I surprised myself by actually taking the trouble to print out the recipe. So, my trip to the store was a success: and now, for the first time in a long time, I have to make the darn pie!
