Sauce and kindness...

As the growing season comes to a close, I went to my favorite farm stand and bought 30 pounds or so of tomatoes. I also bought some garlic, peppers, hot peppers and onions.  Rachel came over and soon all those vegetables were tucked into the counter top roaster. They mounded up over the top, but soon cooked down so the lid fit nicely. They simmered away for hours.

Until they looked more like this.

We let this roasted mush cool for a long time, then introduced it, in small batches, to the blender. 

Next, we added salt, pepper, olive oil, oregano, sugar, basil and some tomato paste, and let the whole thing cook for hours. 

 Stirring gently from time to time.  The aroma of those fresh tomatoes and herbs simmering away was indescribably delicious.

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Now 12 quarts or so of delectable sauce are stored away for us to enjoy this winter. Lasagna, spaghetti, amazing soup... we can trot out our special sauce as needed to create memorable meals, redolent with the taste of summer. The memory of making it together will linger, too. A double win. 

While we were stirring, a package came in mail.  "Not from the U.S." Rachel said. I opened it with great anticipation. Inside a sweet letter from my cousin Karen.  The oldest daughter of my fathers older brother, she was smart and elegant, going off to join the Peace Corps in Africa with her brand new husband when I was just 6 years old. I remember they came to visit and brought us a board game as a parting gift. Monopoly, I think.  I've only seen her a handful of times since. They made their lives in Australia raised a family there. We share emails from time to time, and I am always grateful to hear from her. 

Inside the package was a wee, wonderful, handmade glass dish. A whimsical, happy horse painted in the bowl of it. 

My thoughtful cousin had sent it in memory of my beloved Chanel. And here something magical, the colors go perfectly with the hand drawn card and glass figure gifted to me by my friend Ilene. Now all three pieces are on my dresser, a little corner of happy horse memories.

Our pasture seems quite empty without Chanel in it. She brought a lot of presence to this place. It is sweet to remember the gifts she gave, and special that others recognized how dear she was to me.