Tag: thanksgiving

Are you Elated or Deflated? Should Elsie the Cow be our Guide?

One hears a great deal about the word happy.

Are you happy?

What makes you happy?

Are you happy all the time and on and on?

Because happy seems to be a word that evokes much discussion one must wonder why this whole obsession with feeling elated?

Is happiness what we seek or aspire to achieve?

Can it be achieved at all?

Is happy a state of being or a state of mind?

Can we make ourselves happy or must happiness come through outside sources?

I hate to confuse the issue any more, but lately I’ve been wondering if happy is just a synonym for content?

Are the words related or even the same?

And is one state of being better than the other?

You must be thinking I have a great deal of time on my hands to sit and ponder words, but are they just words?

Or are they something much greater? Are they actually the building blocks for what creates our ability to live a good life?

I think words are in many ways quite responsible for how we live and fulfill our existence.

So can we be happy all the time? Of course not.

Let’s face it, life throws lots of curveballs our way and sometimes we don’t hit it over the fence.

I’m sure like me life has delivered you a walk or two and you found yourself standing on first base wondering why you couldn’t smash it out of the park.

Some would say there is a big difference between the two words, happy and content. I disagree. Babies don’t know if they’re happy or content. They just coo when fed and dry and place no labels on the feeling.

Happy is the gold standard while content seems to be its orphaned silver cousin. Settling for second best for those that can’t achieve happiness to the fullest.

If someone asks how you are and you say content their first reaction is, “content, why aren’t you happy?”

But what really is happy? And is it exhausting to maintain?

I imagine it varies with each person.

What makes us happy is a very personal and selective option.

Some are happy with lots of money, or love, family, a job or any number of things one may conjure up.

Yet no matter what the reason for your happiness it can easily deflate, like a balloon in a storm.

You can be happy one minute and the next in despair. Circumstances change our mood drastically depending on what life sends our way.

So if happiness is so elusive and easily replaced by gloom, why battle so hard to achieve it?

That’s where contentment comes into the picture.

I’ve learned we simply can’t be happy all the time. Oh sure despair, we’d like to be, but that’s quite improbable. Rationalization helps, like when you break your leg and say, “Oh well it could have been both legs.” If that works go for it.

So how do we find that balance between being elated and being deflated?

It’s as if we are always on an emotional roller coaster.

Some say they are always happy and see the bright side of every situation. To them I ask, have you any extra drugs to share?

If God had designed man to be happy all the time he wouldn’t have sent the snake into the Garden of Eden. Yep, that rascal became part of the plan and now despite how much we’d love to feel great all the time, it ain’t gonna happen.

If we are supposed to be happy all the time, why are those other pesky emotions hanging around our psyche?

Sorrow, anger, disappointment, etc, all seem to exist in there too?

So why is contentment actually the better choice?

I offer that it’s because it’s so much easier to achieve.

Content conjures up visions of a cow like Elsie grazing the fields all day chewing on grass.

But is that really so bad? Isn’t it a good thing to be content with our life all the time despite what happens to impede on some desired happiness?

On a regular day when we are simply existing and filling our hours with stuff that needs attending to, is it so bad to just be content we are able to breathe and live in the moment?

I am always content in the knowledge I accomplished my tasks for the day, starting with making my bed. Yet to say I was happy about my bed kind of takes the meaning away from being happy about winning the lottery.

Content covers it perfectly. We can feel good when we are content.

I am content sitting here and writing this blog. Or hot cocoa and a Hallmark movie, or finding a perfect pair of boots for winter.

Happy should be saved for special occasions like your good china. If we bring it out too often the dishes begin to chip and even break while hand washing them.

There is something comfortable about feeling content. Your life is on track and moving effortlessly. No highs, no lows, no oops, what just happened? You just move along on a stable course.

The higher the high the lower the fall while content keeps you on an even keel. We feel responsible for our happiness and making it last. Contentment is a more natural and easy state to achieve and maintain.

You can feel good about your existence even when you are not ecstatic or jumping for joy.

What is so bad about simply floating quietly through space?

Must we always seek to jump over the moon? And there is that cow reference again.

Many believe happiness is a choice we make each day. I applaud the effort and it’s admirable to choose happy.

Yet it’s also quite acceptable to admit we are merely content, living our life and saving our energy for times we may need it most.

Kind of like a jogger that slows the pace and occasionally speeds up to win the race.

I don’t know why being contented with one’s life takes a back seat to happy. Perhaps they are meant to simply complement one another.

As Roy Rogers used to say, “Happy trails to you,” but if the trail is only contented, I argue it’s okay to just be okay.

Here’s one of my Thanksgiving recipes I love

Happy Holidays!

Pumpkin Blueberry Mousse

With Pumpkin Candy Crunch Topping

1 cup pumpkin

1 cup fresh blueberries (optional)

7 ounces of cream cheese

1 ½ cups whipped cream

1 cup powdered sugar

1/8/ tsp cloves

1/8 tsp ginger

1/8 tsp nutmeg

1 tsp cinnamon

Mix sugar and cream cheese until whipped nicely.

Add pumpkin and seasonings

Mix well. Set aside and whip cream until peaked.

Fold all but 1½ into pumpkin mixture. Set aside rest of whipped cream for topping.

Fold in blueberries and pour into parfait glasses or martini glasses. Top with whipped cream. If you don’t want berries you can leave them out.

Place in fridge to set.

Pumpkin Seed Candy Crunch

Place two tablespoons butter and 2 tablespoons packed brown sugar in non-stick frying pan.

When melted and combined add ½ cup of pumpkin seeds (Not roasted or salted)

Sauté on low heat (watch carefully so they don’t burn) for about five minutes until seeds are nicely coated.

Remove from burner and place in fridge to harden.

When set and butter is hardened remove crunch from pan and chop up into pieces. Not too small but small enough to fit on top of mousse.

Bring mousses back out and top with crunchies.

Enjoy!!!

Thanksgiving Just Keeps on Giving

I’m pretty sure most people consider Thanksgiving, if not their favorite, at least one of their top three holidays. I would have to raise my hand for it as number one.

It’s not so much about the food, although the smell of roasting turkey in the oven should be a candle you can burn all year.

It conjures up memories of being young, home from school and sitting in front of the TV watching the parades.

When I was young there was more than just Macy’s parade. In Detroit we also had a Hudson’s parade presented by a popular department store filled with local familiar floats and celebrities.

The smell of pumpkin pies baking, mashed potatoes mashing, string beans stringing and Yams yamming was such a heady scent I felt as though I was floating in culinary heaven.

The dining room table was always set with my mother’s best china and my grandparents arrival was the highlight of the day. My grandfather and I would watch the floats go by as my grandmother helped in the kitchen.

The house was a buzz of activity and there was a feeling the word cozy had been invented to describe such a day.

It seemed everyone settled into an activity as we filled our heads with the aromas emanating throughout the house. It was as if the world stopped so we could all have the time to enjoy the day’s moments. It’s an easy day where the only lesson is gratitude. Okay so maybe you don’t need that second piece of pumpkin pie is lesson two.

Happily nothing seems to have changed from those youthful days.

Thanksgiving seems to have cornered the market on foods that go together perfectly. There is a harmony about the flavors unlike any other.

The turkey still emits a divine odor, the parade still moves along toward 34th street and now families can choose to watch football or the National Dog Show after the floats have finished floating along.

So what is it about Thanksgiving that makes everyone feel so content? Is it the knowledge it is a holiday we share with everyone? That the entire country is together enjoying the day? Is it the vivid memories it evokes? Or the fact we wear our elastic waists and pay no heed to calorie restrictions?  Perhaps a reminder that the parade continues despite everything. That there will be bright floats and balloons even after darkness.

There is a sadness that didn’t exist when I was a child. A void those we loved once filled and we all content ourselves with the fact there is still family around the table and watching the parade.

Is it a bit tempting to dwell on the happy memories of youth and the loss of those no longer here?

Absolutely. But we all seem to enjoy our family and perhaps friends and of course wisdom tells us loss is a part of life we must accept.

I guess that’s why the very name of the holiday reminds us of what it is truly about.

Remembrance and gratitude for what was and what is. Acceptance and joy for the continuation of our own journey.

Sadly, there are some things we never seem to learn. Like the fact there is only so much room inside us for all the food and no matter how much we force down we will pay.

Stuffing food down my throat like a goose as if I were making pate, never works out well and we moan and groan our way into the next day.

It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving unless we all complained about overeating and forced in that last bite of pie.

So of course, despite the fact we all waddle around like bloated ducks we seem to miraculously find more room for the leftovers.

In the spirit of recreating the delight of Thanksgiving dinner I am including one of my favorite recipes for enjoying all the leftovers. It’s delicious and easy and I created it because I don’t like waiting too long to enjoy Thanksgiving flavors again.

Wishing you a happy holiday with all those you love. Smelling the smells, tasting the tastes and recalling the wonderful memories.

Thanksgiving Snoozles

Two sheets of puff pastry

3 ½ cups mashed potatoes

1cup string bean casserole

1 cup cooked turkey

½ cup of stuffing

Add stuffing and green beans to mashed potatoes

Spread evenly on puff pastry sheet

Add turkey shredded or cut into small pieces over mixture

Roll over once and cut Roll over again and cut and repeat this until all cut.

Place in well buttered muffin tins and place a puff pastry pumpkin on top.

Brush with egg wash.

Bake at 375 for 25 to 30 minutes until puff pastry is cooked.

Leftover cranberry sauce can be used inside the Snoozles, but I always find it is delicious as a dip for the Snoozles.

What is Heaven and Am I Going?

What is Heaven and Am I Going?

So, there is a commercial on television now with some guy asking me if I’m going to heaven. How do you answer that question?

I guess I’d have an easier time if I knew for sure there actually is a heaven. Or what heaven is if it does exist.

How do I know if I want to go there if I don’t know what I’m signing up for? Didn’t your mother teach you to read everything before signing?

Cause now that we are watching this insane world you have to wonder; what is everyone’s version of heaven and whose do you want to go to?

I mean I have certain criteria here for how I’d like to spend the afterlife. I don’t mean to be snobby about this, but if I’m going to be in a place for all eternity, I’m not spending my days listening to politicians. 

I definitely don’t want to have to watch award programs and listen to hosts doing unfunny monologues and see Robert De Niro’s pissed off looks when Robert Downey Jr. wins instead of him.

Can you imagine having to spend eternity  listening to Oprah talk about her weight loss issues, car salesmen saying let me check with my manager and see if I can make that deal or watching Nancy Pelosi getting more Botox injections?

I want to go someplace where refrigerators are always fully stocked with unhealthy foods, your stomach is always empty and fat cells don’t exist.

Can someone promise me I won’t have to make a bed, wash a floor or clean a toilet?

A place where there is no traffic, the only newscasters are Huntley and Brinkley and Walter Cronkite and John Kennedy will actually tell me how many bullets really did kill him.

Where all the property is on the water, there are no UV rays and you can walk halfway across the ocean and find a sandbar to sunbathe on. Oh, and the fish are all no longer than 10 inches and in neon colors.

Where pina coladas flow all day and no one gets drunk, where children can play outside anywhere, anytime and no one would ever hurt them and you can pull apart monkey bread without getting your hands sticky.

A place where everything for sale that you want is always equal to the amount of money you’re carrying, chocolate chip cookies are always warm and coming out of the oven next to fresh cold milk, and you can have Thanksgiving any or every day you want with only the relatives you can stand.

Where Santa delivers 24/7 and the temperature is always a perfect 72 degrees with no rain or snow in sight. And the chocolate fountains on every corner are always flowing.

Where your cell phone never runs out of juice, and old Mickey Mouse Club shows and Bugs Bunny, Road Runner and Tweety and Sylvester cartoons are always playing, and Clarabell can talk.

A place where no one says anything nasty or mean to anyone else, where people say thank you and excuse me, and Harry and Meagan are not allowed to write books about how terrible life is in the palace.

A place where babies never cry because their needs are instantly met, where no one is judged by their skin color or religion and anyone who threatens to take over the world has to go back down and live in it again. 

There must be a sign at the gates of my heaven that reads, no politicians or members of Congress, assholes, or haters allowed and there is a no tolerance policy for those who mistreat others.

If a heaven exists with those features, I might be enticed to buy a ticket. 

However, since everyone has their own idea of what heaven or hell entails, I don’t want to get on the wrong train and wind up in the hell where Hamas gets its 72 virgins. 

I imagine my heaven train would be in a special station like the one to Hogwarts, where you have to go to a certain wall and push your stuff through or oops, no entrance for you.

So, in answer to the question, are you going to heaven, I’d have to say I’m not rushing to sign up like it’s a time share opportunity in Cabo.

When I’m sure what I’m in for, I’ll sign on the dotted line. Until then I’m still down here on earth, hell or whatever the name for this place is now. 
Maybe the question this guy on TV should be asking is; “Are you ready to turn earth into heaven by living like you’re already there?”

Now that’s a question I could easily answer?

Everyone Please Stop With the Rush to Rush The Seasons

Anyone who enters a store in this country is usually surprised to see merchandise for sale that is applicable four months in the future. 

The other day at Costco I couldn’t believe all the Christmas stuff and it was only the beginning of September. What is the rush to sell plastic Santas when we haven’t even pigged out on Halloween candy or roasted our turkeys yet?

Is it done for financial reasons? If so why would it make any difference if people bought their synthetic Christmas tree in September or in December? It’s not going to spoil and the price isn’t going to change in a few months. 

I’m sure Halloween candy is already marked half off and we haven’t even hit October first. It seems to me it’s better to wait and get fresher candy, but obviously I’m missing something here. Besides if you buy your candy earlier you eat it all and have to rebuy it anyway. Ah, so maybe that’s their plan. 

Trick or Treat hasn’t changed its meaning since I last looked. I mean kids are still coming to the door hoping for extra-large candy bars and avoiding the houses that give out the healthy crap. 

Then why the rush to move time forward? Who the heck is so anxious to get older? I thought the goal here is to stay younger and all the plastic surgeries, procedures and health nutty things we do are supposed to accomplish that goal.

I would think in this day and age when turning on the news is far scarier than Halloween could ever hope to be, people would embrace and savor the fun and binging on sugar that holiday provides. Why hurry it along when you can enjoy every moment and every candy bar?

Who is making the decisions to speed through the holidays instead of enjoying them like a homemade chocolate chip cookie warm from the oven or a mornay sauce prepared by a Michelin Chef? What’s the hurry here and why?

So I have been thinking about this on many levels and I’ve come to a few conclusions.

Individually these holidays that come in the later part of the year have their own distinct flavor and personalities.

I’ll start with Halloween because that is one of my favorites since it involves begging for free chocolate and no one handing it to you and saying, “Aren’t you afraid you’ll gain weight?” And besides one can always disguise themselves to look like an Oompa Loompa and no one cares what you weigh. I’m just assuming someone could do that, I wouldn’t know firsthand or anything. 

But I digress, so we were talking about the differences of each holiday.

Halloween is about dressing up in funny costumes and wish fulfillment on many levels.

The desire for sugar goodies and oddly enough the desire to create a new identity for oneself.

Choosing a costume we can evolve into our favorite super hero, movie star, supernatural creature or anyone or anything we choose. Damn you could even be a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup if you want, but back to the point here. 

It’s quite fun actually to be something or someone other than us one day a year. A fantasy moment that’s safe, uplifting and hurts no one.

Halloween has always been an enigma to me. The fun is interlaced with scary and spooky. I find it quite interesting how so many supposedly normal people are so fascinated with the macabre. It must be the fun of that adrenalin rush of fear combined with the sugar rush that creates an unbeatable high. Again, I’m just guessing here.

Let’s face it, there is a serious curiosity about Satan and his friends. Who hasn’t wondered if the devil truly exists only to watch someone like Charles Manson and be horrified by the reality that yes, indeed he does.

So why are devils, ghosts, goblins and witches still such a part of Halloween and won’t they still be there in October when it’s closer to the actual holiday? Isn’t real life scary enough for everyone these days? Why rush fear?

Must we begin to explore our inner desire to be Casper the Ghost in August when October is two months away? If it’s a retail decision isn’t the same money spent in August still good in October?

I understand the whole Fall theme that evolves as soon as Labor Day comes. Summer pastels are replaced with autumn colors. Homes and stores are filled with the smells of cinnamon and spices promising cool crisp days, cider and apples and fun hayrides through the apple orchards. 

Believe me I’m not arguing that Fall is an enticing season. It’s my favorite and the mild weather and beautiful colors are alluring, so that may be why everyone is so anxious to start the journey as early as possible. I get that, but what’s with the plastic Santas before we even think about how many pounds the turkey should be?

Is this some sort of slight against turkeys? Has America’s favorite holiday fallen into disfavor or something? As far as I know Macy’s is still planning their parade, Football will be playing on every big screen TV in the country, the Detroit Lions will probably lose, and homes in America will be filled with the same smells that have whetted appetites for over two-hundred years.  

Birds will be basted, marshmallows will be melted on top of yams, stuffing will be overflowing from Turkeys covered with herbs and the pumpkin pies will sit cooling on kitchen counters. Yes, it’s the best time of year when families come together to celebrate their favorite meal and spend the day eating until they are sick, bloated and fall asleep during half time. Gotta love America.

Okay, so I see why people, especially today are in a hurry to celebrate something. 

But isn’t rushing Christmas kind of sad? I’ve noticed as I grow older the Christmas Chanukah season seems rushed. It’s as though everyone is kind of over stuffing their faces and shopping, and Christmas is the last stop before New Year’s Eve. So maybe we’re speeding through instead of luxuriating in the moment?

I know everyone is full to the brim and burned out from the Black Friday sales, but ending the year with Santa and those greasy Latkes is rather special. 

Even Hallmark has started showing the Christmas movies earlier. I love how in their winter movies there’s fake snow on the ground and summer flowers blooming right across the street. But I digress.

Perhaps that’s the problem after all. By the time we get to the holiday we’re just over it. We’ve shopped, planned, gathered and cleaned and by the time it arrives it’s almost anti climatic.

Maybe if there wasn’t so much lead time we’d enjoy everything more.

Last minute Christmas shopping used to be a thing. It kept the adrenalin going and created excitement. Stores and malls were filled with shoppers rushing about, carrying bags and checking their phones to ensure that sweater they bought for Uncle Albert is the right size.

No offense to Amazon, which by the way I couldn’t live without now either. Yet rushing through the mall, stopping to meet a friend for lunch and talking about an updated version of a favorite recipe is all part of the joy. 

I guess what I’m feeling here is that hurrying the seasons diminishes our ability to enjoy what should be the happiness of living in the moment. 

Let’s face it, in today’s world we are bombarded with not-so-great stuff, so if we can hang onto joy a bit longer why not? We probably all need a little Christmas right now.

Perhaps that’s the secret retailers have discovered. By stretching out the holidays, they are actually making all the happy last a bit longer.

I guess that’s their holiday gift to us.

Here’s my delicious recipe that combines Chanukah and Christmas in each bite.

White Chocolate Peppermint Mandelcotti

(Okay, so I made up the word)

A mandel bread/biscotti Christmas and Chanukah recipe 

1 cup canola oil

1 cup sugar

3 1/4 cups flour

3 eggs

1 heaping teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 teaspoon of peppermint extract

1 cup white chocolate

½ cup very finely chopped peppermint candy for inside recipe

¼ to ½ cup finely chopped peppermint for the topping

1 cup melted white chocolate for drizzling on top of cookies

Place oil and sugar in mixing bowl and mix well. Add eggs and mix until well until incorporated. Add extracts and mix.

Add baking powder and salt to flour and mix through

Add flour to wet ingredients in ¼ cups until done. Check for consistency. If dough is too wet add small amounts of flour until the dough has some body and isn’t loose.

Add white chocolate and peppermint and mix through.

Divide dough into four parts and form them into long rolls and place them on parchment paper.

Bake in 350-degree oven for approximately 20 minutes and check for doneness. Don’t overbake because you will have to toast them. 

They will probably crack and be light brown on edges when done

Lower oven to 200 degrees

Let cookies sit for five minutes and cut into slanted slices. Separate them and place on baking sheet and bake until they are toasty to the touch, the longer in the oven the crunchier they will be so it’s a matter of taste. I like them to have a bit of softness left inside.

Let cool and melt chocolate.

Drizzle over cookies and then top with crushed peppermint while chocolate is still melty.

To give it a more holiday feel you can alternate the crushed peppermint on the top and use both green and red peppermint for a more Christmassy look.

Getting Old Sucks!

Getting Old Sucks!

No, I don’t want to hear anyone say, “Sure, but it’s better than the alternative.”

Excuse me, but no one really knows that for sure do they? For all we know the alternative could be Wonkaland or a hut over the water in Bora Bora. Or maybe a massage every day throughout eternity and then a buffet filled with your favorite foods minus calories. Or surrounded by the people you love all the time and they aren’t allowed to criticize you or get on your nerves.

Wow, Paradise!

So now that we’ve put the whole best alternative myth to rest let’s get real shall we?

I seem to spend most of my time lately between doctor visits and healing from surgeries to replace broken parts, talking about the past.

Friends and I commiserate about the good old days when childhood was simple, and how we actually walked back and forth to school, alone. In winter we’d wrap up in ten layers of jackets, undershirts (which my father insisted I wear over my bra) then march out into the cold snowy day alongside a friend.  

I still have a difficult time reconciling how I walked so much as a kid, even home for lunches, played outside, yet still was fat. What’s up with that? I guess I’m over the exercise-keeps-you-thin theories.

I read a study years ago that because Baby Boomers were so active as kids it is easier for us to get back into shape again, than for our children to get into shape in the first place.

Supposedly our muscle memory is still there waiting in the wings for us to run a marathon or walk miles.

Excuse me? As a friend reminded me when hearing that piece of information, her muscle memory now has dementia. I found it hard to argue with that diagnosis. When I call upon my body to pick its flabby ass up off the couch and walk the miles through Costco, it answers me with some incredibly salty language I choose not to repeat.

“Hello, Norma to muscle memory. Wake up and come on down.”

I never knew a muscle was capable of giving someone the finger.

I totally understand why our memories can instantly remember over fifty years ago yet forget last week. Thinking about the wonderful times with friends and family when we were young in a far easier world is a special kind of comfort. One usually reserved for a warm, gooey chocolate chip cookie or that first bite of turkey and stuffing on Thanksgiving.

There is definite pleasure in recalling happy moments when we were carefree, and remembering to come in the house when the streetlights came on was our only responsibility.

Of course everyone knows that old age is challenging and some seem to coast through while others have to schlep along. Is the difference good genes, attitude, sheer luck or perhaps something else?

I think it may be a combination of all with a hefty dose of genetics thrown in for good measure.

To me it seems those who truly cope well are those who’ve lightened their load.

No, I don’t mean weight, at least not in the sense you might think.

I’m referring to lightening the heavy burden of regrets, hurts, anger and sadness we all carry with us attached to our hearts in an invisible sack.

Should we, how could we, had we, why didn’t we, are the words that still haunt and drag us down every time we say or think them.

If I had only, how could I have thought, etc. are the banes of our existence when we are older. 

So many times we forget what a negative effect they impart, and so many times those negative feelings can actually manifest into actual physical symptoms and illnesses.

We get loaded down and then suddenly the world seems hopeless. Our immune system is crying out for help under the weight of all the useless baggage and life becomes a bit overwhelming and disappointing.

Not all of us give in to those feelings but many do, and they seem to be the ones that suffer most and have less fun.

I have a friend that finds it almost impossible to let go of anything in her closet. Those forty pairs of black pants are an absolute necessity for her.

Too many are the same way with their emotional pants. Letting go is hard whether it be a favorite jacket, an old piece of furniture or the regrets and pain of the past.

Sometimes it’s easier just accepting the impossibility of getting through life without screwing up something somewhere. Yet I wonder what we’d all change if we had the opportunity?

The Butterfly Effect where one change in the past can set a whole different outcome into motion is a powerful deterrent.

I like to think if we look around we can all find at least ten things every day to be grateful for and happy about. Okay so we don’t always look, including me, but we should.

So in the end I guess it’s about focus. Recalling happy times in the past is fun and comforting as long as we spend just as much time enjoying the present. Planning fun and interesting things to do in this moment. 

Is it easy to get bored? You bet! Yet with very little effort we can all pull out that bucket list and find something fun we haven’t yet done or accomplished and set out to do it immediately.

I’ve heard so many people say that happiness is a choice and to some extent it is. Sure there are going to be tough times when you can’t fool yourself into thinking there is any way to find any good in your situation. 

Perhaps that’s why we must be happy right now, so if the bad times come (hopefully not) at least we know that someday after the bad the good can return once more.

Yep, getting old can suck, but it can also be a pretty great time, even though maybe not all the time.

The Smell of Burning Leaves

The Smell of Burning Leaves

If one mentions the word Trigger it quickly calls to my mind a picture of a golden horse with a white patch responding to its owner Roy Rogers. Different strokes I guess.

The brain is a strange little computer. We respond to the senses and a smell, taste, sound or a glimpse can evoke the most intense memory and catch us completely off guard.

One smell that induces the most extreme reaction for me is the smell of burning leaves. If there was a candle that smelled like burning leaves I may be tempted to keep it lit all day.

Occasionally I’ll smell something that reminds me of a fresh spring day after a rain and feel that sense of contentment spring brings, but it’s the burning leaves that stoke my flame of happy memories.

Growing up in the Midwest, autumn was such a happy time filled with sights, sounds and moments captured by one scent—burning leaves. It doesn’t induce a single recollection, but a torrent of memories, happy and heartwarming that bring me to a moment in childhood special and revered.

Autumn meant the beginning of school, new clothes and clean saddle shoes. A trip on the first day of school to the corner drugstore to pick out supplies, including a new loose leaf, pencils and a clean eraser. The excitement of a new school bag complete with clear, zippered pencil case and a fresh box of Crayolas, tips sharp and shiny.

Coming home after school and changing into play clothes then going outside to play with friends and watch the neighborhood boys play football in the street.

I can still picture a leaf gently falling and covering the green grass after turning the most exquisite shades of reds, oranges and yellows. The pure joy of crunching the leaves while walking to school and then jumping in them after my father raked them to the curb. Of hearing him grumble because I messed them up and he had to redo them, yet he was never really angry. I always suspected he wanted to do the same himself.

For me it also meant the Jewish holidays were near and I looked forward to meeting friends at synagogue then walking to the bagel factory after services. The fun of Halloween and choosing a costume, begging for candy and rushing home to look through and see what wonderful delights the treat bag held.

The smell of burning leaves promised Thanksgiving and turkey roasting in the oven while we watched the Macy’s parade on television. Then soon came Christmas, Hanukah and the smell of latkes would arrive with vacation time.

No mention of autumn could be complete without invoking the smell of freshly crushed apples at the Cider Mill. The giant wheel mashing apples into submission as they released their delicious juices then paired with hot cinnamon donuts in a grease-laden paper bag. Followed by a ride on a hay wagon into the orchard to soak up the autumn colors or climb ladders to pick the ripe fruit off their trees. No memory would be complete without the crunch of a caramel dipped apple on Halloween.

Yes, that’s a lot to put on a single smell, but that’s why burning leaves are so powerful. I’m certain if you ask any Baby Boomer what smell evokes autumn for them it will be the same.

There’s a certain comfort in memories now. When younger I never thought much about the past because I was too busy living in the present, and of course when one is young there is very little past to recall.

This past year when I’ve been forced to come face to face with my own mortality and had little ability to move my life forward as I’d have wished, the past seems so suddenly important. It’s as if I pulled out an old scrapbook filled with pictures and suddenly recalled how precious each snapshot has become.

Nostalgia has been a big part of how I’ve coped with this captivity because although I wasn’t free to travel outward, I could travel backward at my leisure. I could reflect at will upon those memories that had settled into the nooks and crannies of my brain and become hidden from view. Whenever a scent or sight drew them out of hiding I luxuriated in their warmth.

There has been a great deal of sharing with old friends on the phone and of course Facebook, and recalling time spent in childhood schools, stores and hometown haunts. Remembering my favorite foods makes me long for a local deli, great burgers or pizza, Chinese food on Sunday or a trip to the DQ. The burning leaves seem to be the magic carpet that transports me to the past, flying over childhood and once again absorbing the sights, smells and tastes of my youth. Filling me with the warmth so desperately needed in these cold, scary COVID days.

Even now when I’m walking and come upon a small pile of fallen dried leaves I will crunch them under my feet and feel a sense of satisfaction as the sound hits my ears.

Perhaps it isn’t the COVID that has captured my imagination and yearning for happier times. It may simply be a side effect of baby boomerism. I can’t say for sure what has created this new desire to share memories with those with whom I shared my youth, but it is a heady and incredibly magnetic feeling.

The question “do you remember” could probably be translated as, “oh, how I miss.”

Whatever the reason I shall always love the smell of burning leaves and the wonderful feelings they evoke and in this uncertain world, of that I am certain.