Mumm's the Word

Photo Source

This is the day I have been waiting for ... or has it been waiting for me?

Waking up to a chilly 55 degrees - Farenheit, that is.  For my European friends I only know that it's 12 degrees Celsius outside because I was doing the math when I snapped this photo.  I never forgot this point of reference when watching the Meteo and deciding how many layers of black to wear around Italy that day:

But today ... sniffs of Autumn and teasing thoughts of finally getting to plant Mumms tussled for the same contented sigh.  I burrowed into a soft pink coffee stained sweatshirt after a morning cacophony of bones cracking on the Yoga mat and stopped to fondle and kiss power up the espresso machine.

Clouds low and thick, my squat in the garden was brief but accompanied by John Denver Radio, courtesy of Pandora.  It was long enough to pluck off spent Geranium blooms and give the tomatoes and Chardonnay a pep talk and sing-along to Rocky Mountain High while pinching off the white buds that tried to ambush Basil while I was goofing off in Napa away the better part of the past week.

Yes - this season has been waiting for me.  My first Autumn in Colorado in six years and never in this house.  Every year I’ve had Mumm envy as my neighbors prepared their gardens for the changing weather, despite knowing that Fall in Tuscany wouldn’t exactly be a shabby way to spend the harvest season. The Mumms, for some reason, have always served as a harbinger of my favorite time of year. Of course it’s still August and I would not rush another freakishly perfect Colorado Summer out the door for all the Pecorino in Pienza.

My most beloved (and overused) cheese photo from Pienza, Sep '09

Even more so, this time in my life has been waiting.  Unable to commit to offers and opportunities in wine shops or with distributors because of my temporary status - and stronger desire for freedom than jingle in my pockets - I've been testing out a home business.  Not only is it doing well (initially due to my wino friends), but I'm positive it will survive my absence from the country a few months a year. After giving public and private wine tastings at liquor stores and homes last summer, I knew this gig was just what the wine doctor ordered. To keep my nose in the glass, discuss what’s in that glass with a small room of people who give a damn, all on my own schedule and still have time to study for my somm certs and travel?  Pour me a glass of that, please.

I also discovered 20-30% industry discounts all over Napa and Sonoma this past weekend – and boy is my adorable UPS guy in for a treat when the cases start arriving – and hopefully the chill in the air doesn’t preclude his sporting the brown shorts. Just sayin’.

So this is the year.  It is the time for me to slow down and bask in this moment, this season, and this place.

I will focus on my new business which doesn't feel like work at all.

I will treasure even more time with friends that for once doesn’t have an expiration at the end of Summer.

I will once again bake for them come una donna matta (like a mad woman) in my beautiful kitchen that has the capacity for at least three batches of Christmas cookies at once – fudge by the stove, white chocolate cranberry oatmeal by the espresso maker, and biscotti on the island.

My home will once again smell of spice, apples, Spruce as I reenter from crunching leaves covering the hiking trails.

I look forward to being greeted daily by the Fall wreath on my door that I crafted myself.

And I will plant the Mumms.

Photo Source