Fruits of our Labor

 

It’s Labor Day weekend here in the States, a time when we celebrate the fruits of our labor, and allow ourselves time and space to reflect on the work that has been.

The garden harvest turns to fall-colored things, deeply colored and golden. My favorite winter squash is delicata, the first variety to come to harvest, and one of the simplest to prepare, almost as if the garden said, “Here, take a rest and enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

Delicata plants are prolific, inviting us to gather friends, tell them to fetch a squash from the vine, and tell stories as they roast whole in the oven for 45 minutes. 

Set a pot of black lentils up while the oven is going, and serve as a hearty side. Start with a salad of baby kale and baby spinach, the first tender leaves coming forth from the second planting, and top with sunflower seeds and dried cranberries. Dress with garlic apple cider vinaigrette. 

Southern Politics in State and Nation

In his classic 1949 study, Southern Politics in State and Nation, V. O. Key characterized the Byrd organization as an oligarchy in which power was maintained by a remarkably small portion of the electorate. Fewer people voted in Virginia than in any other southern state, with only 10 or 12 percent of adults casting votes during the heyday of the Byrd Organization. This meant that the organization needed the support of only 5 to 7 percent of the voting-age population to control party nominations, which nearly guaranteed election in most districts in most elections. “By contrast,” Key memorably wrote, “Mississippi is a hotbed of democracy.”

Hello, Ida

The air has a gathered poise, like a stiff-backed great aunt sitting in a chair watching you approach with what she's sure is to be disappointing news.

The rain is coming.

The storm might be one that settles in like a houseguest, because I was suddenly craving macaroni and cheese.

I put a half pound or so ditalini on to boil and fetched the white American cheese from the fridge, slicing about a quarter pound off thinly. When the pasta was done and draining, I rinsed the pan and put it back on the stove with a half cup ish of butter over medium low heat. I tore the slices of cheese slowly into the butter and added some minced garlic and a splash of milk. I whisked it all slowly, adding another splash of milk to help it all come together, then folded the pasta in by small portions until everything was mixed through. In another life I would have put the whole mix into a baking dish and covered it with seasoned breadcrumbs (from the croutons that are always about from the leftover bread making), dotted it with more butter and baked it gently for a bit. But today is not that day. I scooped a little less than half the mix into a bowl and enjoyed it just as it is. It's a delicious, creamy foil to the damp grey day, not that I'm cold exactly, but there's a nagging chill that seems to clutch at my ankles, calling to mind old herb-collecting women who wear thick socks and rain boots with skirts.

Love from friends

Truly surprised and blown away by this little package of love from my faraway fellow nerd.

The dusky twilight color is just right.

Might never take it off.