My Two Scents On The Comforts Of A Warm Kitchen And A Cold Day

Apples

The weather forecaster lied to me. Well, she lied to a bunch of viewers, but I took it personally. There was something about the way she faced the television camera that made me suspect she had her fingers crossed behind her back when she said, “Don’t worry! We will not have accumulating snow. The ground is still too warm.”

Liar!

Booker, our dog, didn’t care that it was snowing. He started howling for his afternoon walk. My beloved husband claimed he didn’t have time to take Booker out because he had to be somewhere…anywhere…really soon. He said this as he gazed out the window and watched obese snowflakes hit the glass with enough force to hear an audible “splat.”

That left me to walk the boy, so I started layering for the outing. A down vest, a coat, a light reflecting stocking cap, boots, gloves, bad attitude… the usuals.

A few minutes later Booker and I were out in the thick of the snowfall. He was happy. I was not.

The wind felt angry as if it had also heard the weather forecast and believed it was “too warm” for the snow to accumulate.  Keeping my head down as we meandered along the snow covered road was my only defense against the sting of ice and snow. “It’s not even Halloween yet,” I muttered into the darkness. Meanwhile, Booker scooped up big mouthfuls of snow and danced in the landscape that appeared diamond-strewn.

A short while later I heard a car pull up next to us. Wincing into the sleet I saw my husband sitting contentedly in the warmth of his vehicle.

“Can I take your picture?” he said. “You have on quite the ensemble.” My gloves were too thick to give him the proper one-fingered salute, so I just waved in response. He drove off as Booker and I made our way back home one slushy footstep at a time.

As I entered the kitchen the smell of warm cinnamon and apples hit me hard. My husband has been dehydrating the last of the apples from our trees, and the scent was a slice of heaven…or slices of heaven as the case may be.

I wouldn’t have appreciated the intensity of the moment without the snow, the cold, and the darkness. I wouldn’t have appreciated the moment without my husband’s willingness to salvage the apples “before it was too late.” Isn’t it funny how that works?

I forgave my husband for sending me out in the snow with a lame excuse, I forgave Booker for being giddy in the storm, and almost forgave the weather forecaster for lying.

Cinnamon and apples. My two scents worth, and the best part of my day.  What fall scents are your favorites?