The year now is swiftly drawing to a close. As we sit here and chronicle the year's passings and watch as the clock continues to tick life away, we face the emotional undertaking of the coming and going of another year.
I embrace the widespread optimism running at an all time high during this time.
I welcome the much needed time for reflection, and the moments to dream that are free from harm.
The turning of the tide.
In doing so, I have come to realize that I am through with short lived resolutions. In determining how to become the best version of my self, because I believe that I am reaching my capacity to do so with each moving lesson, with each fleeting day, and with each passing year.
So instead, I resolve to drink more Champagne.
I'm committing to drinking more bubbly, yes the giggle juice.
I commit to indulge in its spritzy acidity, its crisp and refreshing fizz.
From the big, juicy fruit rockets demolishing everything in their sugary wake, to the yeasty oxidative varieties. I'm laying the groundwork for a zippy safari of unbridled exploration, with more happy-go-luck than a effervescent pink elephant could ever harness.
Early morning, coastal fog, and grey skies above, the onset of an early San Diego winter. This uncharacteristic weather tends to sneak upon us like a feline cat in the gloss of night despite our typically warmer climate.
photo credit: tiana-marie-arnoco.tumblr.com
It's enough to swing the pendulum into cheerlessness.
I am quite fond of gloomy days however, and all that accompanies them. The steaming cups of delightful tea, the afternoons filled with sad piano songs that writhe with passion, the drizzle of rain dancing atop the lapping waves before they break onto the shore.
I welcome the rain as it gives me good excuse to tuck away into a bookstore and nose through the aisles to catch up on my bookjunkie-based freeloading. This of course, always concludes with me slapping down the plastic and depleting a significant amount of funds from my bank account.
For the record, I am not to be trusted in a bookstore with a credit card.
I've a fine umbrella which permits me to spend much time outside to enjoy the little nuances of the rare Southern Californian rainy day, the splish-splash of cars slowly proceeding through puddles (this is California after all, and we haven't the slightest as to how to behave while driving in the rain), and the clickety-clack of high-heeled women taking to the sidewalks that seethe with aromas of wet asphalt.
I do enjoy the warm feeling that musters deep within me on these brooding sort of grey days. I also happen to keep a lovely poem up my sleeve for such occasions. There's really nothing like the encouragement one receives from reading a nice poem, and November is a perfect time of year for reading poetry. This one happens to be wonderfully dreary.
The Rainy Day by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow The day is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall And the day is dark and dreary My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart, and cease repining, Behind the clouds is the sun still shining, Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall Some days must be dark and dreary.
Perhaps somewhere there is a creature robed in a black, sashy sort of gown taking command of the skies. I do hope he or she has a moment or two for a whisk into a pile of blankets to rest and catch up on some poetry.
The spooky season is well underway, and the Queso Diegans gathered for a delicious and frightful bash for the 'darker' part of the year.
Scaring up my own contributions to the seasonal affair, I dressed up a board of cheese offerings, piled high with a double-aged Gouda, a stiltonesque Bay Blue, and Delice de Bourgogne, a triple creme cheese topped with pumpkin butter and roasted almond sliverbits, (which served well as 'fingernails' for my mozzarella fingersticks).
Wrapped it up with carrot-ginger crisps and an old bottle of Vampire Merlot, a very scary wine, for those who dare to scoff at the face of danger.
cheesy finger foods?
We slated and plated the harvest milk offerings of Cranberry Brillat Savarin, Pave du Nord, apple walnut smoked cheddar, and Penacorada blues
for a fantastical feast fit for the curd-adoring masses.
Cheese, brews, and pumpkin flavored everything were abound.
The holy trinity of fall food.
spiced pumpkin apple dippers
a apple-cinammon rolled chevre
Bottled pumpkin pie ales and our fair share of candied, sweetoothy fixes.
Fresh, dazzling dragonfruit
...and some homemade varieties to include this here German whey cheese bathed in red wine.
Now a proper cheeseup is never complete without a fine motley of accompanying beverages.
We made certain to supply a whole lot of sudsy and winetastic holiday treats and treasures perfectly fitting of a 'cheesy' club.
Halloween is the holiday closest to my heart. A season without the hustle and bustle of other far more celebrated holidays. The ones highly associated with commercialism, a gaggle of stressors, the swift loss of patience, and skyrocketing bank account balances.
With Halloween comes little stress, and heaps of spooky musings
the tricks and treats
the unsuspecting scares
the tender lumplings everywhere
the witching hours
the warm jack-o'-lanterns glow
an eerie tale of Poe just short of the evening's rest
those flickering lights
the sounds of ghosts, ghouls
and bumps in the night
a black and orange frosted cake
the haunty houses
sprinkled with golden leaves to rake
the spooks, hobgoblins,
and long-legged beasts
saddle up to the banquet and indulge in the feast
a late night stroll
beneath a full Hunters moon
a season to go mad for, as it shall cease fairly soon
the fun and abandon
a rich, dark cabernet
leave the world behind you
to be an 'otherbeing' this day
Enjoy the remainder of the month long celebration, my Fall-weathered treasures.
Don't let the spooks get to you, and don't forget to pick up every stitch.