Goodbye November

November comes 

And November goes, 

With the last red berries 

And the first white snows.

With night coming early, 

And dawn coming late, 

And ice in the bucket 

And frost by the gate.

The fires burn 

And the kettles sing, 

And earth sinks to rest 

Until next spring.

-  Elizabeth Coatsworth

You know that winter is coming when there is only one lone boat left in the harbor.  Now it's time to sip hot cider and curl up under a blanket with a good book. 

 

I Love PBS

I have been watching less and less TV these days.  I don't feel most of it is worth my time anymore.  But, often when I flip through the few channels that I still get (I only have the most basic cable now), I land on PBS and find something wonderful.  (I should mention that Sunday night has always been my favorite TV night because of 'Masterpiece Theater' and 'Mystery.')

The other night I stumbled upon a great program called 'The Artist Toolbox.'  It's basically a show where the host interviews artists from various fields of creative endeavor–– the violinist David Garrett, Jason Alexander, the actor–– designers, dancers, painters, and more.

The program I saw featured Isabel Allende, the Chilean-American novelist. She is a very graceful woman, who speaks quietly and eloquently about her passion for stories and writing.  I was immediately drawn in and fascinated by the power of her presence on the screen.  I am anxious now to read one of her books.  I think I'll start with Daughter of Fortune.  I have always been intrigued by its cover, and have picked it up and looked at it several times in the bookstore.  (Actually, I'll check the library first.)

The host of the show, John Jacobsen, who, with his broad face and mop of hair, looks like he should be related to the Kennedys, does an excellent job.  His questions seemed more thoughtful and original than many interviewers, and he managed to elicit some very enlightening answers.

This is a great show for anyone who is interested in the creative process, which to me, has always been such a fascinating mystery.

http://www.theartisttoolbox.com

Squeak of the Week

"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."   Henry James

I believe the world would be a more peaceful, civilized place if we brought back the tradition of afternoon tea.  We all rush around–– busy, busy–– all day long.  Wouldn't it be wonderful to be able to just stop everything we're doing for a little while and enjoy the simple pleasure of a friendly conversation over a warm, soothing cup of tea?  (It's hard to imagine plotting wars and destruction over a cup of tea, isn't it?)

My favorite brand for the last several years has been PG Tips.  It may not have the mystique of Assam, or the delicacy of Darjeeling, but it's strong and flavorful and does the job of keeping me going throughout the day.

The package says its England's number one brand, and "The definitive traditional English tea."  And since I have to admit to being a bit of an Anglophile, that's another reason for me to love it right there.

Tea always makes writing more pleasurable, too.  I rarely sit down to write without a hot cup of tea beside me.  A few sips and the ideas start to flow.  So, I think I'll put the kettle on...

Oh My!

It's the great pumpkin, Charlie Brown!

Or rather, pumpkins.  I found these two giants sitting on the lawn in front of the Town Hall.  I think they must have come from the Topsfield Fair (which happens to be the oldest country fair in America, and I look forward to it all year long).

I wish I had someone get in the picture because you really can't get an idea of how enormous they are.

Unfortunately, they're not very pretty.  They remind me of Grace Lin's book, The Ugly Vegetables.


Sometimes, smaller is better.  I much prefer the small, bright sugar pumpkins, like this little gem I found sitting in a window box in Rockport.

On My Night Table…

Babette's Feast and Other Anecdotes of Destiny, a collection of short stories by Isak Dinesen.

This short story is truly a feast;  a sumptuous banquet of disarming characters, luscious language, and delicate descriptive passages.

What a lovely treat to unexpectedly come upon a short tale of such depth and beauty.

Here is a morsel:

"The hostesses made their little preparations in the sitting room.  They dared not set foot in the kitchen, for Babette had mysteriously nosed out a cook's mate from a ship in the harbor–– the same boy, Martine realized, who had brought in the turtle–– to assist her in the kitchen and to wait at table, and now the dark woman and the red-haired boy, like some witch with her familiar spirit, had taken possession of these regions.  The ladies could not tell what fires had been burning or what cauldrons bubbling there from before daybreak."

How delicious.

Now I have to try to find the film.  I remember seeing it a long time ago.