My favourite Time of year

I love fall. I especially love when August tries to sneakily gives hints about the months to come. These hints are everywhere. From the back to school fliers, to the little droplets of yellow spattered in a leafy green tree. I love the cool kitchen in the morning with a hot cup of coffee. I love the kids goings back to school and I especially love hot soups, chowders and chili's cooking all day on the stove. The beginning of autumn holds a lot of romance for me, as it's when I do my best reflecting on the months ahead.

Yesterday I tried out a bisque that I have been contemplating for at least a month. A few weeks ago Marty and I ate at the 502 south. this little restaurant was remarkable in the way it satisfied every little maternal craving of mine. In fact the only thing that would have made my meal better would have been a glass or six of wine. (but alas that will come in the new year) My taste buds have been longing for the cured pork and vanilla bisque that I sampled that evening. I have been scouring the internet for recipes on how to make it, but haven't found one. Yesterday, I got up the courage inspired by the cooler weather and made it on my own. There was quite a mess in the kitchen when I finished....but it was oh so worth it and oh so good.



Today was Oliver's first day at Cape School. He was a little nervous with starting a new school, especially since his sister is still on holiday. He didn't eat very much breakfast, which is unusual for him and the fruit loops. So we made sure we packed him some extras in his lunch as I assured him he would be hungry later. He was annoyed when I stopped him on our way out the door to take a few photos. Oliver is pretty great a humoring me though, so he didn't argue. When I got out of the car and headed for the school this little hand grasped mine. ahh that's nice I thought, I had no idea that it was still cool to hold moms hand. I am glad he still does what he feels instead of worrying about what others might think. I took him inside to find his classroom and low and behold there were some kids who also had transferred from his old school. As I started to talk with the parents about the summer and my growing belly he went into the classroom to put his backpack away. Some time had passed before I peered into the classroom expecting to find him chatting away with his new teacher or other kids, but he was no where to be found. It seems as though he snuck right passed me and went out to the playground to start his big adventure in Grade one. It makes me a little sad to think that he doesn't need me like I think he should, but how can I not be proud to raise such an independent go getter.