A Movie and a Supper. What Happened to Conversation?

 

What? Doesn't everyone put a picture of a movie playing in the background on their blog posts? Sorry, but Sergeant York is one of RH's all time favorite movies and he was about to have a hissy fit when I had supper ready and suggested turning off the television to take pictures.

But there's a story behind those two green pitchers I used as vases so I'm going to tell it. It looks like a flower design on them, doesn't it? No, they're cabbages.

I first saw them in a British magazine, my favorite Period Living, in October 2018. 

 

See? It says Ceramic Cabbage jug, by Paperchase, only 12 pounds--what is that in dollars? Anyway, that's my kind of green and I remembered them.
 

Two years later a large and a small jug sat on my kitchen shelves, for only $15. 

I found them, unbelievably, in our local antique mall for $30 but everything in the shop was 50% off. They were mine!

The jugs make perfect pitchers for sunflowers because sunflowers just turn the water nasty looking in a glass vase.

Thanks to Lorrie and Gretchen's advice I finally cut some of our zinnias to go with the grocery store sunflowers. They were past their peak but pretty in candlelight.

And I brought the pretty little cabbage tureen from the kitchen to the table too. I don't use it for food as it says Holland Mold and I'm afraid it might not be food safe.

Did you notice the pretty farm tablecloth with the sunflowers? It's my favorite tablecloth for August and early September. 

That's chicken salad in a croissant sitting on the pretty French faience luncheon plates I found at the Goodwill years ago, a dozen taped together for a dollar each, if I remember right, which I may not. The chicken salad is a mix between Ina Garten's and the chicken salad we had in Blowing Rock, North Carolina at the Storie Street Grill but no recipe here because everyone has their own favorite version.

And the Cauliflower Soup is Lulu Powers, link here.
I think next time I'll add a little dry mustard to perk it up a little and maybe add a couple of potatoes for more body.

And I'll break my pretzel rod garnish into much smaller pieces but  the simple recipe for them was really good. 

 They're Seasoned Pretzels from Half Baked Harvest's Super Simple that goes with her Broccoli Cheddar Soup. 

My daughter-in-law Court gave the cookbook to me for my birthday and some of my new favorite recipes are from it. 

Her Strawberry Pretzel Tart, that I made back in May, is in this cookbook, much prettier than mine, but so delicious with its Whipped Mascarpone filling. 

I tried to find a link to the recipe online but couldn't find it. So many of Ms. Gerard's other pretzel-strawberry desserts are online so maybe this 1922 cookbook hasn't yet been linked to recipes online? I haven't tried a single recipe from the book yet that we didn't like.

 Time to say goodnight. Fair warning, I wouldn't be surprised if most of any future supper table pics here include the television in the background. We're both tired by evening, too tired to talk much, and feel that we deserve a good movie. And then it is football season and I wouldn't dare try to turn a game off. 

Conversation at the supper table? It used to be so important that I even have a label for it. Not so much anymore but don't judge, please, at least not until you reach our age.

 

September Morning

 

Our garden is a fine place to be on a cool sunny September morning with a "scarf of blue mist around her shoulders."

I try to snap a clear picture of BreeBree and James Mason as they chase madly around trying to pick up the scent of Chester, resident chipmunk.

Hummingbirds zoom in and out to the tiny red flowers of an unknown plant. On one day the flowers dwindle down to a few and I wonder if they should be cut back to encourage more blooms but then the very next morning it is loaded with red blooms, and hummingbirds. Over and over.
 

The hydrangeas are past their peak. This year I'm not cutting bunches for drying. 

We haven't taken down the Fourth of July bunting yet. Hopefully it will come down before the Christmas wreath goes up.

 I'm letting go of summer a little bit at a time this year but a September garden with BreeBree and James Mason is a fine place to be.

September comes to us as a woman blessed with a great inheritance, whose lines have fallen in fair places. She has the flash and frame of leaves that begin to turn, she is colorful with blossoms, and she wears a scarf of blue mist around her shoulders. But to think of all the glories that have been handed down to her from August.

Richardson Wright, Truly Rural