Friday Morn

Wow, it's Friday of what turned out to be a very busy week, and it is definitely a hooky day.  I need some rest.  I've been running about like a mad woman this week, and a little recuperation is in order.  Yesterday, the center was so busy that they serve two tiers of  lunches. Many were there for the Harvest Festival, and those that were not were there for the Chinese Mid-Autumn or Moon Festival--Moon Cake Day. And I finally had an opportunity to try one.  Actually it was very good, although a bit too sweet for my taste.

After lunch we were treated to a show of traditional Chinese dancers and some of the Asian members of the center produced a little play that educated on the meaning of this festival which dates back over 3,000 years.  The ancient Chinese were very observant of the movement of the moon, and this festival celebrates the Harvest moon when the crops have been gathered and the heavy work of the summer harvest has been completed as a celebration of thankfulness for heaven's bounty. This is a time of gathering for family and friends, and moon cakes filled with ground lotus and sesame seeds are given as gifts. 

Afterward, it was home for a quiet evening.  Did not get out to see the Harvest Moon, sadly. Wasn't really feeling so well.  Autumn allergies have been kicking my butt.   My stew was delicious, and I chose to serve it over some rice with my  favorite little sandwich thins.  I've grown to love these little Arnold rounds.  This time I chose whole wheat, but I love them all, and I can have a sandwich without an exorbitant amount of sodium.

One day I will learn how to make food photos look more appetizing. I promise.

And, now I am off to dig out some of my flannel jammies. It's actually been quite chilly at night, not that I am complaining.  This is my favorite time of the year.  Wishing you all a wonderful joy filled weekend.  

"I know the year is dying,
Soon the summer will be dead.
I can trace it in the flying
Of the black crows overhead;
I can hear it in the rustle
Of the dead leaves as I pass,
And the south wind's plaintive sighing
Through the dry and withered grass.

Ah, 'tis then I love to wander,
Wander idly and alone,
Listening to the solemn music
Of sweet nature's undertone;
Wrapt in thoughts I cannot utter,
Dreams my tongue cannot express,
Dreams that match the autumn's sadness
In their longing tenderness."

Mortimer Crane Brown