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Quiet has descended. They have faded into their real lives, somewhere out there, in randomly scattered points on a map. A few will briefly return over the course of the autumn, arriving in random clusters. By November they will disappear altogether until next spring. They are those with second seasonal properties here, and primary permanent residences elsewhere. They are a relatively small group of people who recreate here and upon whom the local economy depends almost entirely. Consequently, the year round residents are always glad to see them. The autumn has always been my favorite time of year. Harvest season, the embodiment of fulfilled promise, has always been a time of plenty in my life. Plenty of work. Plenty of people. Plenty of food. In autumn too, the turning of leaves signifies the turning of the season. Trees, gaudy with colour, sway and beckon the vulnerable voyeur to wander amongst them. Fallen leaves rustle at each footstep. If one is very lucky a cascade of floating colour will drench them whenever a breeze passes by. I have been busy in the kitchen for the last few days, preparing food to stow away in the freezer, for an upcoming trip to the north. The Date Nut Loaf and Raisin Walnut Loaf are baked and stored. Today I will be making a large quantity of coleslaw, which keeps almost indefinitely. Food is always an issue when I travel. When hungry I cannot make quick decisions, and after consideration find that most food available to travelers is riddled with allergens. Having a serious allergy to a common preservative is a serious business in today's world. Like all those who cannot share common assumption, you get to experience the true depth of self-absorption and insensitivity that people bring to superficial social interaction. I have many harsh memories of what people can be like, far too many of them. I am fortunate that my “difference” is virtually invisible and that I can “pass” as normal through avoidance techniques in many instances. Meals shared with family and friends more than make up for the ruthless indifference of society. An example came to mind this morning, I do not why I was thinking about it, perhaps because of the upcoming journey. On a university research excursion I was the designated and only qualified driver of a camper van. It was a big responsibility. On our first day out, in a winter storm, the leader decided that we should stop for fuel and a meal. As the driver I was left alone to attend to removing snow from, and fueling, the vehicle, arriving in the restaurant thirty minutes after the passengers of the van. Of course, it took another fifteen minutes to visit the kitchen to check labels, then time passed while the cook prepared the food. The cook was a gem, really helpful, really nice and funny. As I finally sat down to eat, the leader, who was well aware of my allergy and had assured me it would not be a problem, rose from the table and announced to all, “Well, lets get going!” Hungry and determined to enjoy my well-earned meal at a table and not behind a steering wheel in a snow storm, I pleasantly stated that I had not eaten yet. The whole group had to wait for me. They were irritated and rude throughout my meal. It was one of the hundreds of sad experiences I have had trying to eat with other people. I have learned not to even attempt to share meals while traveling, unless I bring my own food; which of course brings into play a whole different set of social repercussions. The Borg say, “You will be assimilated.” Some of us just won’t. |
RECIPES :: Cast Worldly Distractions  Clouds Again By the Easy Chair Stones from the River by Ursula Hegi (my second read of this novel) Quote "It's not that easy being green…and I think it's what I want to be." from Bein' Green performed by Kermit the Frog On the Screen Sunny Temp 22°C Pressure 102.1 kPa Visibility 15 km Humidity 40 % Dewpoint 8°C Wind W 8 km/h |
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