Scattered Seed

As I have been thinking today about returning to work tomorrow,  I needed to find an upbeat thought.   What came to mind was a song my dad used to sing to me,  when he took me on his mail route,  way back when.     I’m sure it wouldn’t be allowed anymore,  but back in the late 50’s, early 60’s,  I occasionally rode along.  At the Post Office,  I would sit on a stool between the two sorting stations for the mail routes,  and watch my dad and our neighbor,  Bill,  who was the other mail carrier,  fill the cubbyholes with cards and letters.    Everything would be pulled back out,  and stuffed into leather bags,  which had their place in the back seat of our car.    I remember the smell of the leather, and the buckles that held the bags shut.    We would pull up to all the rural mailboxes,  mailed popped out,  and new mail popped in,  before we drove off to the next one.   Along the way,  Dad would be singing to me or whistling….always a happy time out on the dusty,  country roads.

Coming into the home stretch,  with the village water tower in sight, Dad would be singing “Hi-Ho,  Hi-Ho, it’s off to work we go,  To get a pop,  or a popsicle,  Hi-Ho,  Hi-Ho.”    I knew that,  after getting the bags out of the car,  and things squared away at the post office,  we would soon be headed for a treat.     I always had my mind on a Tootsie Roll,  a full-sized,   five-cent one,  and that is what I would get….the perfect way to end a special day.   “Work” didn’t seem so bad back then!

That’s me with the toothless grin,  standing in front of my dad,  with my older sister,  Cheryl,  and younger sister,  Kathy in 1961.

Autumn is definitely here,  with cooler days,  colorful trees,  and more bird and squirrel activity in the backyard.

With the change of the season,  comes a change for me,  too.   I am mentally preparing myself for a return to work on Monday.  It’s been six weeks,  during which,  I’ve developed a routine and sense of efficiency around home.   It’s going to be hard.

On our way home  Sunday,  we made a stop in Montour Falls to walk the path along the inlet.     It was there that I dropped my camera.   It was just a short drop to the ground.  It slipped from my hands.   I reached down,  picked it up and we headed back down the path.   I was slow to realize that damage might have been done,  but something told me to try a picture,  which I did,  and the screen was blank…..

Going online,  we discovered that the estimate for repairs,  with tax and insurance and shipping,  would equal the cost of a new camera.     George convinced me to go shopping last evening.    We found a camera comparable to what I had been using,  but actually less expensive.    It was hard to spend money on something that could break with just a slip of the hand,  so I will be more careful!

Here are some pictures from around the place that I took to figure things out.

Since we moved back to New York State,  in 1975,  we have made it a point to visit Naples every fall.   I remember visiting my grandmother there that year and many subsequent years,  knowing that we would always return to that place in that season.   Traveling the road into town,  the vineyards give off the wonderful smell of grapes that I’ve looked forward to since I was a little girl,  visiting my grandmother,  and my mother’s hometown.

We have always tried to plan our visit on a pleasant day so that we can have lunch at Bob and Ruth’s.    Grandma always took us there,  to order at the pickup window,  and sit in the park enjoying a good visit and chicken dinner.    From there,  she would take us around town to visit her friends,  where we would hear about their families,  some village history,   and times gone by.

Now,  without the personal connection,  we arrive in town like many other tourists.   We order our chicken dinner,  sit in the park and from our picnic table we watch the traffic pass by,  while the leaves fall to the ground,  and the grape pie sellers set up their stands.

Through our eyes,  the community has changed through the years,  concentrating more and more on the grape industry.    We’ve watched the village paint itself purple  – houses,  shops,  cars,  clothing, even the fire hydrants.   There are more fall-weekend events when it is impossible to drive through town,  but I prefer these quiet visits with people just going on their way.

We always make a stop at the farmer’s market while we’re in town.   Today we picked up apples,  peaches,  cinnamon sugar fried cakes,   a jug of blueberry ale that George wanted to try,  and of course the basket of local grapes – Concords,  Niagaras,  and Rosabelles.

After a trip up to the cemetery,  to pause and pay our respects to Grandma,  we left this place of special memories,  to return another year.

A few years ago,  I happened to meet a little Italian lady named Lena.    She was in need of therapy,  but her only interest was cooking,  and making sure everyone knew what a great cook she was.     She insisted that,  more than any therapy we could offer,   she needed to make something for us.  So her therapy became cooking.

We brought in all the ingredients she asked for,  and she set to work,  explaining how things were done in her kitchen,  and in her mother’s and grandmother’s kitchens before that.   There was very little measuring,  just a handful of this,  a bit and a pinch of that.    It was a wonderful afternoon session, and we all learned more than she did,  I’m sure.

When she was done,  we were treated to the most delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs.     She made sure that we wrote down her instructions, so we would always get it right,  and any failure would not be a reflection on her.

I’ve had Lena’s recipe for meatballs in my little flip-book for several years now.    It’s one of my favorites.  When I pull it out,   I remember that I must only buy freshly ground pork,  the meat and spices must be mixed with my hands,  and a handful of parmesan thrown in makes it perfect.

I was no sooner inside from filling the bird feeders,  when I heard the blue jays come.   There were six at one point,  all noisy and aggressive.   The mourning doves just kind of stay out of their way.

There was an abundance of house finches,  and surprisingly,  a couple of tufted titmice.    I don’t see them here very often.

A couple of squirrels were making their way toward the deck feeder,  so I stepped outside to see if I could change their minds,  and up from below flew a cardinal.   He’s the first I have seen here in awhile too.

There were house sparrows,  goldfinches,  a chipping sparrow, a downy woodpecker, a chickadee and starlings to fill in the crowd out back.   It made for a noisy feeding-frenzy for over an hour.

It started out a quiet weekend.    Besides grocery shopping, there was a trip to the library on Saturday.   I picked up one book to read (there is already a stack waiting for me here),  and a couple of cookbooks.  I don’t really bake much anymore since it’s just the two of us,   but I wanted to make up some breads while I have the time,  and put them in the freezer.      I started with this chocolate-chip banana bread,  using up some overripe bananas.

I worked on some house de-cluttering, finished some sewing projects, and picked some of our tomatoes that are finally ripening.

Yesterday was surprisingly hot and uncomfortably muggy.    We hadn’t been far from home in awhile,  so we picked up  chicken barbecue,  and headed up to Stewart Park in Ithaca to sit by the lake and enjoy our meal.

This ring-billed gull was quick to notice we had food,  and came begging with his friends.

Back home it was still hot and oppressive, till after dark when the winds started to pick up.   I thought to bring in the fuchsia,  which has been getting my tender loving care till it gives up to a frost.

We had to close all the windows down as things started to blow around.    That made the house stuffy and uncomfortable for sleeping,  and soon even that was impossible with the sound of the wind,  and the vision of the willows bending against the night sky.    Martha was very nervous and inconsolable,  so she gratefully trotted down to her cage in the basement to spend the night away from the noise.

This morning we found that the grill cover had been blown off,  the water in the birdbath had been blown away,  a few potted plants had overturned,  and a branch of the willow tree had broken off.   Considering what others have endured at the head of the storm,   we have no reason to complain.

Yesterday I found that I had been given an award by Becky,  of Woodynook Creations.    She takes me on excursions in her neck of the woods a couple of hours west of here,  and I look forward to that each day.

Most days I feel that I just muddle along here,  not really sure what to post about,   so I feel quite honored.   Thanks Becky!

I had a nice surprise in my mailbox today.    My swap partner,  Fiona,  from Dublin,  sent the needlebook and pincushion that she crafted for me.  I love the stitched butterfly,  and the colors of the cute little pincushion.   I appreciate every little stitch she made, and look forward to transferring my needles and pins into their new places.

She even tucked in a delicious piece of chocolate.    Thank you so much Fiona!

I’ve felt better than I have in a long time,  so I’ve tried to pack a lot into this past week.   I never strayed far from home,  as most of what I wanted to do was right here.   I’ve done some crocheting,  cross-stitching,  sewing,  reading…..all my favorite things which go by the wayside when I am working,  as I just don’t have the time or energy for them then.

One special project was to put my attention on Morgan’s birthday,  which is still two months away.   I challenged myself to come up with ideas that are not stamped with Made In China on them,  and I think I’ve come up with some good ideas.    No pictures……she would peek.

I started sorting through nooks and crannies that I haven’t looked into in a long time.    We have so much stuff,  and we have forgotten that we even have some of it.   When I was sorting through the linen closet,  I found a sealed bag with this quilt,  hand made by George’s great aunt Grace.

There have been fabric scraps of complimentary colors that have been speaking to me every time I open the drawer,  so this week I pieced some of them together to make a little mat for the center of the table.

I even spent some time tidying up my little stockpile in the closet,  as we have been going to it more frequently the past few weeks since I haven’t been able to do the grocery shopping (carrying the bags) on my own.