The last hurrah of summer…

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Summer ended today, with one final hurrah, warm temps, bright sun, crystal blue skies…all to give way to chillier temperatures, and the true onset of autumn. Sure, we’ll have days in the upper 60s (F), but Old Man Winter is going to be knocking soon … and he will not be denied.

As the seasons turn, it’s bringing on a bounty of apples, of winter fruits, and, as the song goes, summer wine (it takes time to ferment, obviously), the wind begins to howl as the leaves change their colours, and frost claims the last of the garden goodness. So goes the “circle of life.” We, as individuals, are born in the springtime, mature in the summer, age in the autumn of our years, and pass on in the winter.

The thing I’m grateful for with all this change is that the cooler nights have set the rose bushes to blooming their little hearts out one final time before going dormant for the season.

Do you find yourself looking at the little things and finding joy? As a friend of mine told me today, “Don’t cry because someone died. Smile, because you were a part of their life.”

Take time to scope out recipes that make you smile. Try new ingredients. Don’t be afraid to fumble in the kitchen. Some of the greatest recipe creations were discovered by improvising, or even by a dish that didn’t turn out just right. Remember — never, ever give up — especially on yourself.

Another friend of mine is going through a rough patch, having left her husband, heading for a divorce. To make matters even rougher for her, she is attempting to reconcile her religious beliefs with the necessity of the divorce. As I attempted to explain to her… if she has done her best, she need fear nothing. But by staying in an unhealthy relationship, she need fear everything.

Life isn’t black and white. It’s infinite shades of grey. And somewhere, mixed in it all, are the bright colours of the rainbow. Find yours. Celebrate life, love and happiness. Every day.

“We never talked forever… we were in love and through it all… our hearts would sing everytime they’d ring the ancient bells of St. Paul’s…” (Linda Eder)

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