Lost

I’ve chosen lost as my word of the week. Not as a negative, but recognizing a moment of shifting to a new episode and leaving some aspects behind. The summer holidays are officially over. Two members of the family have packed their bags and are calling elsewhere home, while the rest of us adapt. I find myself cooking too much pasta and popping into empty bedrooms, momentarily forgetting that I need to text them the question or information now.

The weekend was a flurry of last minute buying to set the Youngest up for his new adventure. I kid myself that, with more than a month’s notice, I would be exceedingly organised, but I think we all know the truth. I’m a gal that likes to work up against a deadline. Fortunately, we used some of Eldest’s kit as she’s finished Uni for now and will be travelling lighter, I expect.

We dropped Youngest off on Sunday. It rained. We looked as soggy as the other parents dropping off their offspring and doing the last minute food shopping. Always sad to say goodbye. I’m a little lost without my boy, but also massively excited about his new adventure at Uni.

Syrens walk

One down and onto the next departure. Middle daughter is starting her second year at Uni and moves into a house with friends. She moved most of her kit over there before the summer, so it was food and clothes preparation for her.

We headed down to the Outlet stores in Street. Our usual route was closed, so ignoring the clearly marked diversion signs, I took the lesser used lanes. I like the feeling of treading (or driving, in this case) a path less trod and feeling lost. It paid off and we also encountered the mile markers for the Syrens walk, which is on my bucket list.

Twenty five years ago an artist and a musician set up mile markers for a walk from Wells to Glastonbury Tor, or the other way round. It is an eight mile walk, mainly on a quiet route. At each mile there is a boulder with a bell set in to it, that plays a note if you hit it gently with a stone. Altogether, they make a tune which sounds like Big Ben. We found two of the mile markers and jumped out of the car to ring them.

I’ll do it on foot next time. Taking the bus back to the start as eight miles is enough for me.

The Lost Spells Exhibition

Next day, we decided to go to Bath. More shopping, but as a palate cleanser for all the inevitable decision making, we popped into Jackie Morris and Robert Macfarlane’s “the Lost Spells” Exhibition. I’ve wanted to go all summer and I’m so glad we made it. The art is fabulous, but the words truly resonated with me. So much that I bought the book and spent the rest of the week diving into it at odd moments. I loved it as much as, if not more than the previous “Lost Words Spell Songs” book I picked up years ago.

It’s Jane Austen’s 250 year anniversary and Bath is celebrating. Plenty of people dressed up in period costumes, visiting the city. It was strange viewing the old masterpieces upstairs in the art gallery, dodging people dressed as if they were expecting Mr Darcy to come round the corner any minute.

Second University drop off that evening and now we are back to a three person household, plus a sad and slightly lost hound.

Outdoor tomatoes and other harvests

This year has been the perfect conditions for outdoor tomatoes in our garden. I only planted them out when I found I had far too many seedlings and an empty raised bed. They have done me proud. Even out producing the greenhouse. I’ve processed them into pasta sauce and they are in the freezer for winter, although I may still can them.

I lost some to slugs, but very few. So long as we get more sun, which is looking hopeful, I should have just as many to harvest and more jars to fill.

This weekend is the real start of apple season for us. More apples to juice and others to process for pie filling. Our trees are heavy with apples, so it will take me the best part of a month to organise them.

Everyone has apples. I came home during the week, and a neighbour had left apples on my kitchen table, from another neighbour. Then today at Pilates another friend offered me more apples, which I politely declined.

It is the season.

If anyone wants me, I’ll be the person lost under a pile of apples.

Joining in with Anne’s Word of the week linky. What’s your word?