After I told you about what happened, I figured I was back. I forgot quickly about the part where I admitted that I didn't fully know what that meant for things here in this space. I don't know how I could have swept that aside, but I did.
I jumped into my old way of thinking: let's tell them about all the zucchini recipes I tried, and about Olivia's Summer exploration of chocolate and mint, namely in the form of ice cream. My mind was galloping ahead.
The problem is that I'm not ready for my old way of thinking. I really did harvest a lot of zucchini and found some new favorite recipes, but the enjoyment was in baking the breads and cake and sharing them with friends. I wandered off after each one, never giving a thought to photographing or writing about any of it.
Despite our sadness, we had a full Summer. Beach, pool, lots of invitations.
Towards the end, I was racing the change of season to tell you the highlights, but honestly, what I really felt like doing is what this looks like to me.
Being in the moment. Reflecting. Following what's in my heart.
One minute I'm amassing piles of recipes, only to drift out into the garden to cut flowers and harvest vegetables, then coming back in to realize that there's no time to start baking.
Then, before I was ready, the produce season flipped.
My zucchini plants are pulled up, as are the cantaloupe and watermelon. The eggplant and peppers which were unhappy all Summer, are now coming forth.
I realized last week that I just have to give in and let myself meander.
In my kitchen, my gaze alights on the baskets with apples and pears. Olivia has been reminding me about pie, and there has already been a cake.
Looking for something of interest to photograph one sunny morning, my sight fell to a windowsill that held all those little things of Aaron's that came home in a treat bag or just seemed to collect and become the fabric of a house with children.
I don't know what I did after I took this photo, but I may have just left the stack of cookbooks on the kitchen table and went out to see if there were any zinnia's to cut or yellow pear tomatoes to pick.
That's where I am as September turns to October, and I begin to accept that this inside and out, one hour this idea and the next hour that desire is truly what being back means for now.