It's been a wonderful weekend.
I got up on Saturday morning and went to Newport, RI. Took a nice walk from Easton's Beach down Memorial Drive and did some shopping downtown. Yes, it was chilly at first: the wind kind of caught you by surprise.
But totally worth it.
Only down side: I forgot my camera. I always do.
I got back and did some yard work. Call it a minor victory, but I'm always quite pleased with myself when the leaves are manageable enough that I can mow them and use them to mulch the lawn. Raking leaves seems like such a ... pointless... task otherwise.
And given that some creature is apparently using a small section of my lawn as his/her own private port-a-potty, the lawn-mower mulching is very much preferable.
I've been knitting. I'd show you what I've been working on, but it's a gift and a surprise, so... sorry. No go.
What I can show you is what I did this morning. I headed out to North Scituate and picked up these little beauties:
I ate two on the walk back to the car. Yes, they are quite good. Add a gallon of cider, which is right now mulling away on the stove with a couple of cloves and a cinnamon stick, and it was a morning well spent.
This is what I love about Rhode Island. You can be on the beach one day, and in the woods the next. Locals who complain constantly don't realize how good they have it, in my opinion.
After I got back from Newport on Saturday, I decided to make an Italian wedding soup. It's a perfect way to ring in the newly-arrived autumn. I found really good ground chicken and ground chicken sausage (apologies to the vegetarians), and the resulting meatballs were good enough to eat on their own.
Okay, I ate a few. But I saved the bulk of them for the soup.
Because the soup had all kinds of good things in it, including chopped spinach:
It's just rather yummy is all. A comfort food par excellence, if I do say so myself. Here are the carrots from the garden (which is basically history, as of this weekend):
At least, that's what I tell myself. Anyway, they taste good, and as my mom used to say, "that's all that matters."
The soup turned out great. I used homemade chicken broth that I made last winter, so it ended up really hearty and full of flavor--although admittedly, not very photogenic. It totally tastes better than it looks, in my opinion.
I've also done a fair amount of reading, and I've stumbled upon a novel that I'm liking a lot, Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake (2004).
I read her collection of short stories, The Interpreter of Maladies (1999), and I thought it was probably pretty good, but I couldn't really tell.
I read it while my godson was having an MRI after his round of chemotherapy, so in all fairness, there isn't a work of literature on the planet that would have absorbed my interest, under the circumstances.
But I do remember thinking that Lahiri is a good writer, and I'd have to check out something else that she's written, to do her justice.
So in the grand scheme of things, the break has been a success. Here's wishing it didn't have to end.