Fresh

As I strolled the ranch this morning the strange scent of unfermented, tonic, well… fresh dew in the dry Wyoming air filled my nostrils with memories of another place and time.

I’m fourteen again. Riding my palomino mare trail-wise through our 40 wooded acres in Northern Michigan; my Aussie/Collie Pete follows behind keeping a watchful eye on me.  The mossy, thick, humid air is an everyday occurrence for this little girl– always, always, always being outside. Why I’d rather take out the trash and feed the dogs than do those dang dishes, dust, or any other household chore! Much to my mother’s dismay, I’m sure.

But today, today as a much older woman, (I’m a grandmother now you know!) the mountain air brings nostalgia and newness. (The sense of smell has such power over the memory.)  My mind goes to an emotionally overwrought place that’s seems too much to bear. Bitter sweet memories of all those places and people left behind and loved ones long gone on ahead of me. The aches, pains, laughs, wrinkles, hours, days, weeks, months…years take their toll and roll on by.  Troubled thoughts are comforted with sage wisdom of the best forthcoming as I tromp through the long wet grasses soaking my barn shoes and pants halfway up my shins. In reflection, the  boundaries have indeed fallen for me in good places. This nagging guilt of living the best of times will not encroach upon the freshness of a new day.  I am grateful. I am thankful. I am at peace.

“Today a new sun rises and we start again.”     French Proverb

The sun did rise again today… right on time. Today I refrain from my daily baking activities. Today I catch up with my ordinary life. Today I breathe deep, over and over, come what may:  old memories to reinforce my essence, or inhaling the new cookbook next to my chair. The new Mary Jane’s Farm magazine also awaits my attention.  And of course there will be laundry… always laundry!

My husband, Construction Man, has begun building on my commercial space for the bakery. Again we tried for a location in town, and again it fell through. Oh well. There is a plan and it will all come to fruition–just not in my way or time frame. But again wisdom says enjoy the journey and do not force such things.

So for now I bake for the farmers markets, private parties, individuals, weddings and family. This brings me great joy seeing you all eat and enjoy my art. Thank you for supporting me and causing me to take ahold of my purpose and passion. After all, it is in the shelter of one another that we truly live.

Now, saddle up missy! We got a trail to blaze. Hope to see you out there.

Love yous,

Diane  #culinaireclaire

Where French meets West!

 

Author: culinaireclaire

I am a true Wyoming cowboy girl! A wife, mother, writer, baker and guitar playing fool. All my horses, puppy Peter, laying hens, and even family members are a bit fluffy. I love to feed people!

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