Funny things to be grateful for, I suppose. But I am. It was such a mixed week of simple delights with my mother-in-law. I stayed with her for several days, and we spent time in the kitchen and at the Scrabble board, mostly.
She’s passed the kitchen mojo largely on to me, but we still work well together in that space we’ve shared so many times over the years. I’m so grateful she invited me in as a young bride nearly thirty years ago, showed me tricks and led me by example into a love of cooking.
The property at her place includes the fruit trees my father-in-law, now deeply missed, planted decades ago. Since he’s been gone these five years, we try to keep up with the pruning, but it’s hard.
The little apple tree closest to the house is mostly full of wormy apples. There were plenty to choose from, though, for a crisp, which was on the menu one night of my visit.
There are plenty of figs, too. I’m sorry I won’t be there to enjoy more at their peak of ripeness. We had a few before I left, and I was able to bring home a handful for my husband to enjoy.
As for the deer poop, well, there was a fresh pile of scat down by the apple tree the morning I went to get our cooking apples. I loved seeing it because it means seeing the deer which bring my mother-in-law such delight.
Last week we had deer on the deck, clattering away when they spotted me, a mother and fawns grazing under this glorious walnut tree, and a young buck wandering through the yard.
These are the kinds of things I will remember and hold dear as time marches on and change moves us down the road.
Deer poop, figs, and little wormy apples.