It’s been raining for two days, and the weather dude says it won’t stop until Wednesday. Everything smells like rot and decay. The roof over our bedroom sprung a leak. Sam the roof guy can’t fix it until the rain stops, so we’re keeping things as dry as we can with plastic sheets, newspaper, paper towels, and rolled up bath towels. Still, the plaster wall is buckling and the ceiling has a deep brown circle. I fell asleep on Saturday night to the drip drip drip feeling the futility of keeping a house erect. For every new shingle or coat of paint that we add, the wind and rain just rips another hole through.
On Saturday, we wallowed in the rain decay. We read books, spent hours gazing at the Style section of the Times magazine, and ordered out for dinner.
Today, the rain lightened up even though the sky still stayed gray. We went apple picking at Dr. Davies’ Farm in Congers, NY. Jonah jumped into the air to pull down the biggest apples. Ian reached for a few from his perch on Steve’s shoulders, but then got one he liked and ate it until the juice ran down his face and into Steve’s hair. The apples were sharp and tart and delicious.
On the way back home we stumbled onto a street fair in Nyack, NY where we walked past the jewelry and incense stands to find warm bowls of Pad Thai and spring rolls. Lemon grass and patchouli wafted through the damp, musty air. $6 for a quart of homemade pickles dripping with brine, because Jonah wanted them so badly.
For dinner, we defrosted a jar of my mom’s pasta sauce, an old family recipe that involves large quantities of pork, and poured it over ziti and chunks of parmagian sauce. A small plate each and a larger plate of Apples Brown Betty, a brown sugar crumble over baked apples.
Walking through the fair today, I smiled at Jonah who lugged his prize pickles in a plastic bag back the car. I told him that I was proud of him for eating so many different kinds of foods today — tart apples off the tree, tangy Pad Thai, and vinegary pickles. Tasting new foods is one the truest pleasures in life, and if he was open minded about trying new things, he would always be surprised and amazed.
In the thickness of the weather and home decay, we found flavor.
Apt. 11d 
What a wonderful post to read late on a Sunday night. Thank you, Laura.
We went out yesterday for a fall drive around some local backroads; it was the “Spoon River Drive,” and a lot of tiny little farming communities were hosting flea markets and craft fairs. Nothing terribly impressive, but a good day to be out in the fresh air. We stumbled upon a nice little orchard, and the girls (who’d moments before were complaining that the drive would be dull) tumbled out quickly, picking huge Rome Beauties off a nearby tree. They ate them up too. It was a good day.
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