Autumn Sunday

"The Survivor"

Yesterday it was cold when we woke up. After a very long summer, it seems like fall has finally arrived. Sunday was a day made for the season and we decided it was time to bake the first of the two big squash that our garden produced. The Magdalena Big Cheese squash that we planted in August had grown like wild, taking over our back yard. The vines grew from one end of the yard to the other and even climbed into the trees, easily reaching 25 feet in the air. We have had a continuous production of male flowers from the plant but were beginning to despair of ever getting fruit. Finally, one appeared near the end of the longest vine, nestled beneath a giant leaf nearly a foot in diameter. Then another one fell from the sky...literally. Apparently it had developed on a vine that had grown up a high branch branch and on that particular morning the weight became too great for the vine's little tentacles to support. When we stepped out the back door, we found it sitting peacefully and unbroken on the ground, some ten feet from its nest in the tree. It was already the size of a large grapefruit and we were incredulous that it hadn't been damaged in the fall. Indeed, no harm was done and we harvested it last week as big and ripe as its sister across the yard.

The squash was beautiful and -- I don't want to brag, but -- it was essentially perfect. The skin was smooth and uniform and the flesh was sweet and firm. Sean helped cut it into slices and we decided to bake it all with a bit of butter and nutmeg. I also roasted the seeds, which turned out really well. (Even though I tried my best to burn them in my ridiculous oven :) We ate some of the squash with our lunch of lentil soup, and took a pan of it over to Annetta's later. Even so, there was a ton left over so I'm hoping to convert the remainder into squash bread tonight.

Round 1 - "Raw"

Round 2 - Squash Bread a la The Joy of Cooking
(Round 3 was the curry I had to make a couple nights later to use up the rest)

~~~

Sunday was also the celebration of Tucson's traditional All Souls Procession. It was my first year attending, even though I've lived in Tucson for almost seven years. I'm so glad I finally went, because it was awesome...quite a surreal experience. As a friend pointed out, it is much like stepping into a Tim Burton film. (The comparison was confirmed a few minutes later when some people passed by carrying a huge representation of the little dog from Nightmare before Christmas, complete with the glowing red nose.) There were giant skeletons walking among the crowd, wild costumes ranging from grotesque to gaudy, and elaborate portable shrines for loved ones lost.

A group of met up before the procession to paint our faces and share some food. I think it may have been the first time I have ever worn face paint. Strangely, I kind of enjoyed it.

It grew colder as the procession moved toward downtown. The clouds were building and the flashes of lighting intermingled with the flashes from the many cameras in the crowd. The atmosphere was charged and finally broke right before we entered the Sixth Avenue underpass. As the rain began to fall, you could hear exclamations of joy and praise for this beautiful and unexpected occurrence.