It’s not just the chill in the air, but something a bit more elusive, the angle of the sun in the east and the fragrance of drying foliage borne aloft by the wind, maybe. Whatever it is, I sensed it this morning when I took Scout-the-Goldapeake-Retriever outside for his first pee of the day. Here we are, feeling more and more settled in our comfortable North Carolina home (it’s where we’ll hang our hats for a little while), getting the lay of the land while we wait for the world to calm down a little. And speaking only for myself, this is the first autumn in a while that has not struck fear and dread into my heart for what comes after it. For the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to sweater weather, and then to Thanksgiving, and finally all the baking one does during the holidays.

Weekend biscuit baking continues in this kitchen as it has in every one of my kitchens for the past several decades. It’s just dumb luck that The Chef and I have stumbled upon brand-spanking-new kitchen appliances in this house and also the one before it. Only this time, we’re navigating our way around an electric cooktop, and a glass one at that. This is tricky and requires a good deal more patience than cooking on gas, which we deem superior in every way to an electric range. We are learning as we go.

There is also adjusting to a new oven. I’ve just about figured this one out, except I was having a little trouble getting the biscuits to rise. It’s the lower altitude, I concluded after some research. Added more baking powder, et voilà! I believe I achieved biscuits my great-grandmother Grace would have been proud to eat with her salty, crispy bacon and black coffee.

Unpacking continues, with a little reorganizing and repacking as we go to help minimize the burden of the next, rather more permanent move, which we anticipate in 2022. Meanwhile, The Chef’s burgeoning collection of salt and pepper shakers has not seen the light of day in a long while, but now huddles together on the built-ins in my sunny home office. There really is nothing else one can do except smile at this happy spectacle, although I wonder whether The Chef’s kiddos will one day look on these with the same joy as their dad and I do now. The title and cover of this Joe Teller book come to mind.

Scout’s getting used to his new digs, too. Part of the appeal of this particular rental was its fully fenced back yard, where there’s plenty for him to investigate, but also plenty of trouble to find. Thus, he is always supervised by one of his doting humans. This in no way takes the place of our almost-daily running, in a neighborhood that is damn near perfect for running, and walking, and visiting with neighbors.

Where has the weekend gone? We managed a nice evening out for supper with one of my coworkers last night, and I worked a little this afternoon on my About page, at least; click over to it if you’re so inclined. Thanks for stopping by, and ‘til soon.