September Musings

The other night Rog and I went to PJ's to  listen to free music prior to heading to Vinology for supper and jazz.  The PJ's band was straight out of the late 60's/early 70's.  As I sat there I was tranported back to the heady days of underage drinking, dancing with hopeful young men, and Sporty's, the local hangout for Eastern students.  Back then carding was a joke and I rarely had to buy more than the first drink.  Meeting guys was as easy as accepting an invitation to dance on the crowded floor to such classics as Proud Mary or Light My Fire.  My drink of choice was a Tom Collins -- tall, cool, and almost like lemonade.  It all washed over me as we sat and moved to the rhythm of the music.  Those were good times, best remembered than experienced.  I don't miss the insecurity, the doubts and questions, the foolishness, the risks, the uncertainty that accompanied all that.  Here and now is ever so much better.  And yet... the memories are welcome.

When we got to Vinology, I felt the contrast of settings and music.  One was time and age-specific; the other was both ageless and timeless.  The pianist played jazz standards, familiar tunes we've learned to loved over the decades, familiar to those of our age as well as to those older and younger.  And then, for the length of one song, a bridge was built between PJ's and Vinology, a song not considered a part of the American songbook but one that was of our era.  Alfie.  The theme song of the movie by the same name, a movie Rog and I saw when we first started dating more than 40 years ago.  Mellow, haunting, the song tied our past to our present reminding us of who we were and who we are and that while so much has changed the core remains the same.

That brings me to yesterday and today.  Yesterday the weather turned decidedly brisk and fallish.   The first football game of the new season was played and won.  The town turned alive with students, present and past.   As I walked this morning, I thrilled to the promise fall has always meant for me.  I know this is in part because as an educator, fall meant new students, a new opportunity to get it right, to teach better, to make a difference.  There was excitement in that.  The excitement and expectation is still there for me, just not in educational terms.  I'm looking forward instead to the joy of experiencing fall fully.  Whether sitting on the deck sipping coffee as the sun rises listening to the morning song birds or travelling to savor the fall colors, knowing we can do one, the other, or both whenever we choose is a freedom we've not experienced before.  I am very much looking forward to taking advantage of those opportunities.

And this weekend marks the beginning of my favorite four months of the year.  Food and family are the reason.  I love cooking in the fall.  During the summer, I avoid the kitchen, spending most of my time in the yard or on the road.  In the fall, I can't wait to make the first stew or soup.  At some point my attention will turn to making holiday cookies which I'll freeze and eventually mail to family for Christmas.  The aromas that waft through the house mean home and family to me.  The whole process warms me, inside and out.  And of course, there are the family get-togethers ahead.  Seeing loved ones, perhaps not seen for several weeks or months, is always a joy.  Whether visiitng my mother in October, Thanksgiving with extended family is some part of the country, or joining our son and his wife for some part of the Christmas holiday, these are special loving times.  I  gather for safekeeping the laughter, love, and memories of these times to warm me during the frigid months of January, Febriary, and  March.

And so, I sit here, smiling as I think of the days ahead, looking forward to each and every one.