That’s it — summer is over. School has started. There are no more happy, gritty trips to the beach. No more precious vacation days left. There is a school bus leaving our neighborhood these mornings as I stand in the yard, watering the crispy hydrangeas. The sun is setting earlier, and rising later, though it’s still plenty stinking hot mid-afternoon.
Overnight, with the stealth of mushrooms, Halloween candy displays have popped up. Today at Costco, between the pistachios and the aisle of folded flannel shirts, I rounded a corner and was penned by a towering wall of luridly colored Halloween candy. I saw that Reese’s has a new, smaller peanut butter cup treat, shaped like tiny pumpkins – that is not a good observation for an adult to have made. Surely, there must be better distractions from current events for former children. The last thing I need is a five-pound bag of cheap, sugary temptation whispering to me through the pantry door; beckoning me with scratchy, skeleton fingers and crinkly, foil-wrapped siren songs.
At least I am not so pathetic that I have started to decorate for Halloween. One of our neighbors has. I spotted a plastic pumpkin, wearing a witch’s hat on a nearby front porch yesterday. School has barely started, for heaven’s sake. We need a decent mourning period before we can celebrate Halloween with any amount of enthusiasm. We need to assuage our jangled nerve endings with copious amounts of Old Bay, with ears of corn, cole slaw and potato salad. Perhaps a modest amount of beer. I suggest a crab feast.
That will cheer us all up. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more! Let’s have a one last gathering out on the back porch, a swan song to summer, and extend a hearty greeting to our friend, fall.
Here are some cooking tips, although I am sure that you don’t need them: Crab Feast
When I was a student at Washington College, in those bright and shiny days, we started the new school year with a crab feast. We sat outside, under the big trees, happy to see each other again. This was back in the golden era when we were legally of age to drink beer. And yes, we did. I am sure it is a much healthier environment for the students now, with their abstemious and vegan ways. But I don’t think Pilates can be half as much fun as a crab feast with friends.
Here, in the grown-up times, without a cohort of Eastern Shore pals close by, we will have an end-of-summer feast of our own. We need to be sure that at least once this summer we ate enough coleslaw, potato salad, strawberry shortcake, and shelled some peas out on the back steps. How about you? Did you eat enough popsicles? Did you grill enough sausages? How about corn on the cob? There is nothing like melting your fingerprints on a steaming-hot ear of corn, with a greasy cascade of butter running down your chin. It is a feeling that you won’t ever enjoy in the delightfully cool autumn. It would just ruin your sweater.
I’m looking forward to fall. I’ve already ordered next spring’s daffodil and tulip bulbs. In anticipation of cooler weather Mr. Sanders tried made a batch of macaroni and cheese from scratch. Not from a box, with powdered cheese, which was another of my seminal college memories, but with Gruyère and sharp cheddar cheeses, with a white sauce and fresh bread crumbs. And we decided that it would make a fine side dish to have with pulled pork for Christmas dinner. Because you know, Christmas is just around the corner.
In case you want the Old Bay taste without all the crab fuss: Old Bay Goldfish recipe
“The summer ended. Day by day, and taking its time, the summer ended. The noises in the street began to change, diminish, voices became fewer, the music sparse. Daily, blocks and blocks of children were spirited away.”
—James Baldwin
