Happenings

I cut into a perfectly ripe pear this morning. As I smelled its perfect sweetness, I felt a sudden wave of nostalgia for the late summers of my childhood, when the air is still hot and dry, but with an edge of coolness in the evenings, and the pears are spread out in the shade to ripen to perfection, sending out a scent of sticky sweetness.

It was a very brief moment of nostalgia. My subconscious brain just wanted to remind me that it liked ripe pears. My conscious brain, on the other hand, reminded my subconscious brain that when the pears started to smell like that, the parents would gather us children around the steamy kitchen table for hours and hours to cut and core and peal and bottle and seal pears, until the house was a mess of sticky brown pear juice and my fingers were wrinkled with it.

But I guess my body knows we have reached late summer, which makes my subconscious happy. The air is still warm, but the mornings aren't as bright. And the late summer pears have reached the urban supermarkets.

They call them William pears here. At home, we called them Bartlett pears. I suppose it makes sense to call them William in Australia, where most people are on a first name basis. Actually, it's likely that in common use, within their homes and among friends, Aussies refer to them as Will or Billy pears.

I've started an online mindfulness course. I've already learned great truths, like stress goes away if you actually just immerse yourself in the project that needs to be done. And while I know that is true, I find myself with a few too many projects to be done. My moments of quiet contemplation sometimes leave me with reminders of one other urgent task to put onto the task list. Luckily, bottling pears is nowhere to be found on the task list. Nor is cutting back hollyhocks. Late summer is more peaceful in the city.

Finally, Cynthia says I should post more pictures, although I don't think she actually ever comes here anymore. But in case she does, here is a picture of Jonathan looking at a flower in our park. I don't think this is the kind of picture he would approve of, but I don't think he ever comes here either.....