Sunday, 30 October 2016
Sunday morning this and that . . . .
I was standing in the backdoorway the other morning, fairly early. The sun was just coming up and then I heard it . . . the squawking of a flock of geese as they flew overhead on their yearly migration South for the Winter. It is a sound I am familiar with, having heard it countless times in my lifetime wherever I have lived and it holds somewhat of a haunting melody for me . . . as it echoes through my time.
We do not migrate as the birds do, but I notice that there is a change in the rhythm of our lives when the season begins to ebb . . . Nights become cooler and our days are dreamily edged in a blue haze of mist and drizzle. There is a quickening in the blood, a sense of urgency, a sense of restlessness as suddenly our lives are filled with countless projects that must be attacked and finished before the Winter falls upon us . . . .
If you are lucky enough to have a wood fire in your home, tis time to stack the firewood handy by the back door and get the woodshed filled with kindling. There are leaves to rake, the last of the weeds to pull, roses to deadhead and bushes to trim back . . .the dying blackberry and raspberry canes to be burned. Bonfire night could not come at a better time for there is plenty that needs burning about the garden.
Oh, I do love the smell of burning leaves. They carry with them the echoes of many a childhood memory, and my heart waxes with nostalgia every time I catch that wonderful aroma, the smell of a thousand autumn days gone by . . .
All the blankets get an airing on the line, filling with the scent of October wind and sun, in preparation for the stuffy rooms of the impending Winter to come . . .
It won't be long now . . .
One autumn chore I really enjoy is checking the pantry shelves to see that we are well supplied for the Winter months, just in case we can't get out for a few days. It is comforting to have supplies on hand. I am not fond of its taste for drinking, but I always make sure I have several cartons of UHT milk and cream, well dated ahead. They always get used. In cooking . . . in hot drinks . . . on cereal. Onions, garlic . . . all dried and stored away for use during the coming months. Somewhere cool and dry and dark. Where would we be with out our onions and garlic. Like potatoes and carrots, they are something I always have in the house.
You can do a lot with an onion. Each one holds the promise of a tasty meal in one form or another. In soups or stews, they enhance already delicious flavours . . . on their own they shine creamed or fried or even roasted. There really is no substitute for an onion when you need an onion.
Did you know that the Egyptians spent the equivalent of several million dollars on onions during the years they were building the Great Pyramid? I am not sure how they were used or eaten, but I do know that the Romans felt that onions gave them strength and ate them for breakfast with honey.
Not so odd when you think of the merits of glazed onions which are enjoyed as a part of a roast dinner . . .
Last Winter I read online that onion juice could be used as a remedy for earache and in the eyes to clear the vision. I did produce some onion juice for an earache I had, but have never tried the eye thing. Methinks it would sting overmuch, and I am not sure if the onion juice worked or not for my earache . . . but it was an interesting exercise to try, and I do like trying new things. The nurse was not impressed with the gunge in my ear when I finally was able to get it seen to at the Doctors. I did not have the courage to tell her what it was for fear she would think me a bit insane . . .
I do love soup made with onions. One of my favourite being this one . . .
Onion Soup with Cheese . . . it is simply onions cooked in milk with some seasonings, ladled over some hot toast and served sprinkled with lots of cheese and chopped spring onions . . . it is delicious. Simple things generally are, proof that you don't need a lot of faffing about to guarantee a tasty supper.
Holding a round firm onion in my hand I ponder the wonder of its structure . . . The delicate papery skin with gold, ivory or pinkish hue and concentric circles inside are a marvel to behold. I wonder if the number layers signify the age of the onion, like the age of a tree. Oh my mind does work in mysterious ways at times . . . to think . . . nature casually produces this gift to mankind and yet we take them so for granted.
But then . . . human beings are inclined to do that with a lot of things I fear. I am grateful for a heart and mind that is not opposed to stopping and thinking about things such as this from time to time . . .
It is nice to be able to slow down and ponder things even so simple as the miracle of an onion in the hand.
A thought to carry with you through today . . .
A picture one for today . . .
In The English Kitchen today . . . Easy Cinnamon Rolls for Two. Delicious. And the recipe makes just four cinnamon rolls. Perfectly sized for the smaller family. Un-yeasted, more like rolled scones. These may not be much to look at, but they are fabulously tasty. A rare treat. All I can say is its a very good thing there were only four of them. Sigh . . .
I wish for you a Sunday filled with light and with love. Along the way don't forget!
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════ ⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════
And I do too!!