I’m sitting here at the computer, eating a very yummy but particularly stinky combination of melted goat cheese “brie” topped with last season’s harvest of honey from my brother’s hives, with a scattering of Spanish almonds on top. It is both gooey and satisfying, although perhaps a bit risky to be eating over a keyboard.

This Chèvre comes in the form of a rather large log, purchased at the insistence of our local cheese seller, who – during the seasonal months of weekend farmers markets – is always throwing different (often almost expired) imported products at us. “Try this! You must try that! Here, I will give this to you, trust me, I know you will come back asking me for more!” And so, since he probably will not be making an appearance again until later next spring, buying the intimidatingly large Chèvre log seemed to make sense. Since it is so substantial, it would make more sense to share with family during the holidays, with a ramekin served to each – but I know none of them would eat it. This has resulted in finding myself regularly working through it alone, topped with the recommended honey and imported almonds, while practically feeling my arteries harden with each rather delicious, sweet/tangy, heavily goat-scented bite. I will say though, the cheese man was right – it’s unexpectedly good.

Staying on the subject of food just for one brief moment more, the morning started out with the somewhat usual Sunday Dutch Baby, this one a pear/blueberry/cinnamon/vanilla and using white/whole wheat flour, since that is what was in the house. My food pics are not professional quality, but you get the idea. With a bit of maple syrup on top, I can attest it was tasty,

For a brief moment I thought I might actually embark on making some biscotti today (a craving for the last few weeks – must be the season) but that idea flew out the window after taking the dog for a very, very brief trip out to the front yard to do his business in the rain. It’s wet and slightly chilly out, but not as cold as it could or will be soon. Still, damp enough to dampen what little enthusiasm to bake was there.

Out and about in the world and off The Urban Porch; a week ago the Japanese maple in the back yard, which I affectionately call “My Red Tree”, was still holding on to both its leaves and their color. This maple is always the last one to drop.

By today the leaves have lost their luster, the crimson bleeding out to rust, yet still clinging to the branches.

It won’t be long until they all release.

The gingko trees are finished and have dropped. It’s hard to believe they were ever so sun-gold.

Meanwhile, I look longingly to the photos my sister sends me of autumn in her part of the world, soaking in some of those wisps of fiery color in order to mentally string out the season a little bit longer – wishing I was there.

I’ve been busily wrapping holiday gifts to send to distant family, and putting together packages for the youngest ones. This week I’ve also given away a number of items to people on our free local Buy-nothing group, which has been both rewarding and frustrating, depending on who you are dealing with. Human nature…. sigh. But that’s another story, maybe for another time.

So many odd memories have been cropping up in my head lately. Have any of you found the same thing happening? Flashbacks of days and people gone by, triggered by a song, a sound, a visual, a scent, a taste, the season, the news. Some things have been so weird that I had to do some internet research to see if they were really true (and they were! yikes!). There were a few “what ever happened to?” wonderings, some of which – after a bit of exploration – I did actually find out “what ever happened to” those people. Many deep thoughts, but none I feel like putting to paper in detail right now. Just floating along with it all and musing on how strange life can be.

Looking over at Rudi, I see the top of his head and little ears sticking out of the blanket, which reminds me of a carrot top poking out of the earth. How much joy he brings me. For the rest of this evening I think I’ll get cozy like Rudi, which is the perfect thing to do on a wet December night.

~*~