Don’t know if it’s because we’re about ten days from the true start of Autumn, or if it was the other book I was reading besides the last Ruth Galloway, that was set in November in Georgetown, where sherry and cognac were frequently sipped in the course of the story, or what, but I promised myself a bottle of Couvoisier this weekend and followed through. I haven’t had this in what must be close to ten years although I have always loved it–the cognac I had last year at Houmas House was delicious, but it wasn’t Couvoisier. So, buoyed by a day that included buying my orange Halloween lights, a really jolly chap to hang over my door–a skeleton sort of scarecrow in orange tunic, black hat, long black clothed legs with straw sticking out; and a bittersweet-colored candle in a jar scented with Pecan Pumpkin Cake–it’s burning right now and making my mouth water–last night after Mass and choir, settled down in the dark with the beautiful indigo sky outside and the lit candle casting a glow and a light like hearth fire, so cozy…to watch the premier of “Star Wars: The Force Awakens.” I had long ago broken the brandy snifters can’t blame that on WTWTMA (heretofore to be pronounced, Witma for short) and couldn’t find any yesterday anywhere…so I compromised and bought a stemless wine goblet and it was perfect for the Couvoisier. Perfect. And heavens what enjoyment. The bouquet was a joy, the flavor perfect and although it is not cold weather it was a perfect night for it. And, I really liked this movie. Luckily, I was also taping it because the cognac relaxed me so much I got drowsy and decided to turn in–however, as someone who hated the Star Wars prequels, I loved this episode. It reminded me a lot of the first one I saw so many years ago. The droid in this one, BB-8 was even more appealing than R2D2; it was great seeing Harrison Ford again as Han Solo and I’m glad they gave Chewbacca more depth. I loved the character of Ray; she reminded me of the young Leia in a way. I thought the scene when Solo and Leia are reunited, now that they have aged, perfect in the way they stared at one another spellbound for a moment, as only happens in true love. Even when there is an estrangement; and ironic, as their son didn’t take after either one of them, but after his grandfather, Darth Vader. Clever. I will finish it today.
One of the mourning doves has returned. But he doesn’t venture to the door, just perches on the rail outside the Ernest Hemingway room and was there this morning as I sat down to post. He watches me through the window and we stared eye to eye at one another this morning. He knows me, such a quiet thing. I scattered a little seed but he hasn’t eaten it yet; maybe he’s still too young. I think those birds were just beginning to fly and probably stopped by my place to rest on the mat; that’s got to be very tiring.
This will be a lazy Sunday. Not doing a lot of cooking at all; and at the moment re my house all I can say is, Bless This Mess. Goodness gracious, perish the thought: Am I getting old?