It was around this time four years ago that I tried my first roasted chestnut in France. Being a southern girl, chestnuts were never a big part of our Thanksgiving or Christmas cuisine (though we sang the line in The Christmas Song just the same). But in France, as soon as that first gust of Alpine air blows down the mountain (or, if you live in Paris, that first Nordic wind blows in across the Channel), the marrons grilles vendors take up their stations in the squares. They appear suddenly one day, around 4 o’clock when people are beginning to trickle home from work. The air is cool and we must pull our sweaters closer around us. Our bellies are grumbling as we anticipate the dinner we haven’t yet cooked, and then the smell of a wood grill and the sweet nuttiness of the roasting chestnuts reach our red noses. We buy a paper cone of the morsels for 3 Euro; they serve double duty as hand warmer and an tasty snack that energizes us for the walk home.
The change in season has had me and everyone else on the web waxing poetical all week long. And fair warning: I can’t promise that this is the last time you’ll read the words ‘pumpkin’, ‘leaves’, ‘crisp’ or ‘cinnamon’ on this space. Sorry.
In any case, what are you doing this weekend? Will you visit the state fair? Carve a pumpkin? I have a three day weekend coming up, which is good as I have a long list of October activities I’d like to begin crossing off.
They start with:
A visit to this college town bookstore.
And then, maybe, finally going to see Flannery O’Connor’s home.
Beginning a new knitting project for my one-year-old cousin’s Cat-in-the-Hat birthday party.
Smelling this soap every time I walk past our bathroom.
Watching this documentary and becoming inspired to write a little every day and get more involved with my community (that seems to be the general reaction of people when they watch it).
I’d love to hear about what you’ll be up to this weekend and, especially, what you’re reading lately. Have a great weekend!