OCT’ 20

10

 Well, all good things, they must come to an end, yes? And, while I hate to admit it, it's almost an intrinsic quality to the best things.

I hosted my book club's discussion of Michael Twitty's Cooking Gene. If you're looking for another angle to approach the subject of race in America, this one is both genre-bending and mind-blowing. And, the food writing is just phenomenal. For my book club recap, I had this to say about it:

We all agreed that food was essential to the book. Not only did it open up a new vantage point from which to explore race and racism in this country, tracing the culinary history of the South made it possible for Twitty to corroborate the information that he was able to piece together about his ancestors and to establish a visceral, emotional connection to them. Wasn't it Churchill who famously said, "History is written by the victors?" By contrast, Twitty's book demonstrates the breadth, ingenuity, and perseverance required to retell history from the perspective of the marginalized and oppressed.

It had been quite some time since I last hosted a book club discussion...probably before Willa was born. So, you can imagine how relieved I was at the end, during our "meta" discussion of how the meeting went, when one of our members complimented me on my facilitation of the discussion. WHEW. It's done now and I am kind of sad that it is. BUT, also glad it will be a good long while before it's my turn again.

We've been a busy, bustling household for a second week. I didn't realize how much I have missed having people in my home and the kind of intimacy that is only possible through the gesture. Family dinners, movie nights, card games at night after Willa has gone to bed, helping one another out with challenges at work during the week, working out together...we'll even get to celebrate a birthday. Alas, they must head home at the end of the coming week. To vote, to check on their home, etc. But, what a gift this time together has been.

This weekend, I need to pull up my cucumber, eggplant, okra, and pepper plants. It's time. They've slowed down considerably and the eggplants are a bit spicy because they're stressed out by the fall in temperatures. It's just as well because I can use the space to plant crops that I hope to overwinter in cold frames. I recently ventured into the chicken-area to harvest some mint- we hardly ever go over there anymore. The grass is lush and verdant, volunteer cilantro and dill have popped up everywhere but it is also quiet and strikes me as somewhat sad. We still haven't made a decision about whether to try to bring the girls back. I can't tell if my problem is that I am in the process of letting go or won't let go.

Willa has started the next session of pony club. She rode a pony for the first time in class this week. We also took Willa out on her bike in the streets to pick-up library books. We ask her to ride behind us and on the right. So proud of my girl. She needs gears. Poor thing peddles her heart out going uphill. She's growing up. I love it and hate it.