Sense of place, pumpkin bread and Octobers
I grew up in New Jersey- but also in a tiny town in New Hampshire in the summers since before I can remember. My childhood memories are a mixture of my home on Oak Drive and mostly in a bathing suit, sitting on a rock eating corn on the cob and candy cigarettes in Lanes End, in Melvin Village NH.
It’s a strange thing to be divided between two places. And while I feel I can’t ever claim New England as my home- there is a part of me that bucks against that proclamation every time. Especially now. Especially in fall when the lake is on fire and my friends and cousins send me these pictures from their boats with justifiable bragging rights.
“We’ve told you to move here for twenty years.”
Is always their response. Which my heart never quite understands, as it feels like I did already, long ago.
A sense of place has always been important to me and having lived in rural NJ now for nearly two years, I can say that the 12-week stretch from the end of August to the end of October is the most beautiful receipt we’ve ever been given for settling down here. Also, the people are just lovely. Everyone. I thought it might have worn off by now, but everyone is just as helpful and interested, and engaged as the first week we moved in.
As always, I’ve been working through my thoughts on place, seeing the humanity in others and ourselves, giving voice to our anxieties so that they feel heard, the state of mental health care and childcare and poverty in our country, and some fun, humorous musings about my perfectionist proclivities over on the ‘gram.
And now, for the beautiful, challenging, and delicious things that are filling my life this week:
First of all, my friend is a comedian. I do not have to tell you all of the incredible benefits that come along with having a comedian as a friend. She’s hilarious, and you should go follow her immediately over here: https://www.instagram.com/noelleprhodes/ She also, this week, talked about a tea that has been changing her life. As someone who lived in northern Ireland for quite a long time, I take her tea recommendations seriously. She was correct. This is delicious. Hot cinnamon, a twist of orange, fragrant and warming with a lingering sweetness.
Though I’m a mixture of a bunch of things, I connect the most with my Netherlands and Scottish roots. Having come from a long line of professional bakers, it only seems appropriate that traditional bakes are a big interest of mine. I am currently obsessed with The Hebridean Baker and I will not apologize. All the shortbread and scones in the foreseeable future.
I’ve been reading Cole Arthur Riley’s, “This Here Flesh,” and her nods to both activism and being a contemplative are really stirring something inside. It’s beautiful and sad and true and challenging. I’m afraid to consume it and now apply it so I’m working through it slowly.
While I haven’t really made it my cause to dismantle the harm done by purity culture, I haven’t hid my thoughts on it, either. My friends are doing incredible work in this area and had a guest on their podcast who is worth a listen.
Smitten Kitchen NEVER lets me down. This is the pumpkin bread we make on a weekly rotation every October.