Hey, Sunday Letter friends!
It’s been a minute or two.
I’ve been having a heck of a time balancing my writing lately. I’m approaching the editing deadline for my next book (yay!), and so I’ve been spending most of my time working on that. Also, a couple of other article deadlines have jumped up and tagged me on the shoulder. I say this to excuse the state of my recent blog posting. Or lack of blog posting, I should say.
And then there’s college football—I can’t get anything done on game day! Mercy, yesterday was filled with exciting games won and lost in the last seconds; I cheered through several of them. Two things are for sure in college football: 1) any team can win on any given day; and, 2) home team advantage is alive and real.
Momma, my sister, and I made a quick trip home to the farm recently.
I know I’ve said it before, but man alive, the house where I grew up (aka The Bat Cave) is a time capsule of the greatest sort. We could supply the television set for The Wonder Years. Actually, we could cover most any decade.
One of our big accomplishments while there = Staci and I cleaned out a few drawers in our bedroom. Talk about a trip down memory lane. And, while we traveled memory lane, we listened to record after scratchy record, everything you can imagine (and some you’d probably rather not). I found the first single I ever purchased at the record shop in Osceola—Brandy by Looking Glass. I found the second single I ever purchased at the record shop in Osceola—Chevy Van by Sammy Johns. We heard a little Elvis and Olivia Newton-John, sang along with The Bee Gees, Earth Wind and Fire, Johnny Cash, Dr. Hook, and of course, Donny Osmond.
A long, long time ago…I can still remember how that music used to make me smile…
It still does.
I brought back a few of my most prized possessions for safekeeping, because one never knows when the entire Bat Cave might be struck by tornado or earthquake. (I mean, the New Madrid Fault runs underneath the carport.) Included in this treasure trove—my first Nancy Drew books, my original copy of The Secret Garden, the Holy Bible given to me by Brinkley Chapel on the occasion of my baptism in 1971, and a box of random pictures and letters, including a card from Brother Brown of The Accidental Salvation of Gracie Lee fame.
Oops. I just noticed one of Staci’s Bobbsey Twins books in the mix.
Staci, I have your book.
Thai Basil has been a fabulous performer in our garden this year. Its spiky blooms attract bees and butterflies, and we’ve been adding leaves to our salads and sandwiches. Now that fall is here and I know cold weather is surely around the corner, I thought I’d make a batch of pesto. I don’t want all my fresh basil to go to waste.
Pesto is easy to make. With only five ingredients—basil, pine nuts, garlic, olive oil, and parmesan—it’s my kind of recipe.
Really, if you grow basil, there’s no reason to buy pesto at the grocery store.
I used simple THIS basic recipe from the NY Times.
Pesto freezes well too. (Tip: If you plan to freeze it, wait and put the parmesan in after thawing.)
We have two Cardinal families that feed and nest in our backyard. Today’s fallen leaf art is a tribute to the bright red males.
I’m sad to say I don’t think fall in Fayetteville this year will be as stunning as last year’s. Or maybe our fall color will be late to arrive?
Fair warning: my leaf art may be lacking this season.
Things Momma Says:
Why do I think I need to eat the whole time I watch football?
Thanks for being here, Sunday Letter friends. Rest up and we’ll meet back here same time next week, how about it?
For now, I’ll leave you with these words that are still hanging on the wall of the playhouse at home, still as important as anything. (And, following, one of the best songs EVER.)