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Stewart. That Martha. She pissed me off. What about? Quinces.

There was a piece in the latest Martha Stewart magazine about “The Forgotten Fall Fruit”, ie: quince. Jamie & I were at our local, really good, fruit and veggie market yesterday when there, in a bin, were some quinces. I thought, “Why not?”, and chose two that, to me, looked quite lovely.

Arriving home, I looked up the article and found that Ms. Stewart says to buy quinces with no sign of green skin; that ripe ones are pale yellow to yellow. I, of course, had bought two greenish ones. Why? Why did I do that, you ask.

Because the art director of the piece, for whatever reason, had used two lovely green quinces on the first, full-page picture of the article. And as I tend to lean more toward the visual, I remembered the picture not the words.

So now, I have two greenish quinces resting on the kitchen counter, ripening. One day, the air will be redolent with their, reportedly, lovely scent and they will be the proper, yellowy color.

But for the moment, they’re green and I’m still pissed off at Martha.

…Didn’t I just write about falling into petty annoyances. Ah well… I’m only human. 🙂

k.

Tags: Ephemera, Food by Kirk
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That’s what the air is tonight. Crisp. Autumnal. The sky is clear and star-filled. And living in NYC, that last is saying something.

I think of all the seasons, Autumn is my favorite. Well, I don’t think that, I know that. Maybe it has something to do with the on-set of the end, or rather, the big rest. It’s a time of amazing energy and change. The same could be said for the Spring, which is my second favorite season. Winter being my third. Summer, dead last; so far behind the pack, to borrow a line, it thinks it’s in the lead.

I’m looking forward to the upcoming (how did the time pass so damned quickly) holiday season. I know, I know, believe me, I rail against the ridiculous, disturbing American need to start selling the holidays months before they’re here. But today, on one of my walks, in the air’s crackling briskness, I looked into the building’s little garden area: someone had decorated it with mini-pumpkins and suddenly, I was whooshed ahead to Halloween, and Thanksgiving. And it made me feel good.

Probably because this year, unlike any since I left my parents’ home 27 years ago, I’ll be celebrating in a home. In my home. With my husband and cats and, if Jamie and I ever get our act together and figure out a date, with friends over for the holidays. Oh it all sounds so traditional and mundane; so straight. It really isn’t. What it is, is glorious. There are many times when I, like we all do, get caught up in my own little dramas, petty annoyances, drudging ruts. It’s human nature; it’s what we do. For some perverse reason, it’s so very easy to complain.

But the truth of it is, I’m damned lucky. And happy. And I think most of us are. Not in some Edenic way, only the insane and the sainted live there, but all of us who have some modicum of comfort and freedom and friendship and love in our lives should take a moment each day and say thanks to whatever power we happen to belive in. An island without life is just a barren rock, and that’s no way to live.

As the performance artist, Penny Arcade, says, “You should love somebody. It’s the most political act there is. It’s the only one that truly changes the world.”

Hey, wasn’t this post about Autumn?

Nite,
k.

Tags: Ephemera, Family, Jamie, Life, NYC, Politics, Theatre by Kirk
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