food


I Worried 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers 
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was taught, and if not how shall I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, 
can I do better? 
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows can do it and I am, well, hopeless. 
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imaging it, am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to 
nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang. 
                                                                                                                                                          ~ Mary Oliver



It is unusually difficult for me to write in these increasingly complex and uncertain times we are all living in. My thoughts are messy. Emotions are messy. The truth is messy.  
I worry. I worry about my health, the safety of those I love, am I a good enough mom, friend, wife, daughter, citizen... Am I able to keep my ego in check? How is the world facing the challenges most of which we humans have created by ourselves? I worry about the flawed human reasoning and the growing lack of basic critical thinking. What kind of Earth will our children inherit? 
But then, I breathe out. Breathing out is calming. It encourages peace and insight. It helps me pay attention to my surrounding, reminding me that even in troubling times, there is beauty, kindness and joy in the world. 

I step outside and a tapestry of beautiful autumnal leaves hugs my walking feet. I walk forward with each footfall placing distance between me and the world of news stream, social media and phone calls. The seasons are changing. And the more I contemplate the changes, the more I grow appreciative of all the autumnal wisdom and generosity that pour unrestrictedly through me.  
Light.
Darkness.
A balance. 
Letting go.
Fleeting nature of all things...

Autumn tucks acorns in my pockets and faded hydrangeas in my arms. Autumn blows a fresh breeze in my eyes and puts a pumpkin-carved-like smile on my face. Autumn fills my kitchen with the smell of baked pears and my heart with a desire to create. 
The calming power of the natural world makes me tune in to my senses, slow down and pause. I am fully in this moment. The clutter of my mind begins to withdraw. The negative inner conversations switch off. There is nothing but the sounds of the season, the bounty of autumn, the simple beauty of small things, the whisper of simple everyday rituals, the comfort of home, the awakening of hope...

I am at home. I arrange a foraged bouquet in a vase, cook pumpkin soup and take a long warm bath. I light a candle, turn up the music, drift away in the calmness of dolche far niente to find my own STILL in the chaos of life. I am breathing out. 








Still Life


I Worried 

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers 
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn as it was taught, and if not how shall I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, 
can I do better? 
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows can do it and I am, well, hopeless. 
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imaging it, am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to 
nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang. 
                                                                                                                                                          ~ Mary Oliver



It is unusually difficult for me to write in these increasingly complex and uncertain times we are all living in. My thoughts are messy. Emotions are messy. The truth is messy.  
I worry. I worry about my health, the safety of those I love, am I a good enough mom, friend, wife, daughter, citizen... Am I able to keep my ego in check? How is the world facing the challenges most of which we humans have created by ourselves? I worry about the flawed human reasoning and the growing lack of basic critical thinking. What kind of Earth will our children inherit? 
But then, I breathe out. Breathing out is calming. It encourages peace and insight. It helps me pay attention to my surrounding, reminding me that even in troubling times, there is beauty, kindness and joy in the world. 

I step outside and a tapestry of beautiful autumnal leaves hugs my walking feet. I walk forward with each footfall placing distance between me and the world of news stream, social media and phone calls. The seasons are changing. And the more I contemplate the changes, the more I grow appreciative of all the autumnal wisdom and generosity that pour unrestrictedly through me.  
Light.
Darkness.
A balance. 
Letting go.
Fleeting nature of all things...

Autumn tucks acorns in my pockets and faded hydrangeas in my arms. Autumn blows a fresh breeze in my eyes and puts a pumpkin-carved-like smile on my face. Autumn fills my kitchen with the smell of baked pears and my heart with a desire to create. 
The calming power of the natural world makes me tune in to my senses, slow down and pause. I am fully in this moment. The clutter of my mind begins to withdraw. The negative inner conversations switch off. There is nothing but the sounds of the season, the bounty of autumn, the simple beauty of small things, the whisper of simple everyday rituals, the comfort of home, the awakening of hope...

I am at home. I arrange a foraged bouquet in a vase, cook pumpkin soup and take a long warm bath. I light a candle, turn up the music, drift away in the calmness of dolche far niente to find my own STILL in the chaos of life. I am breathing out. 








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"Autumn suits you perfectly," a friend of mine wrote to me the other day when she saw photos from my everyday walks into the woods. Since the beginning of the season, I can't get enough of the simple beauty that surrounds me wherever I go – from the gorgeous golden colours of the leaves to the perfectly shaped, raised from seeds, ready to be picked squashes in the garden. The seasons change so effortlessly, without prompting, that if I am not paying close attention, I might overlook all the wisdom the Earth is offering to me each and every moment. 
I believe no other season teaches us so many profound lessons about life than fall does. And as I approach into a deeper season in my own life, I believe Autumn is my season. 
Knowing that each season is a journey of change and personal growth in preparation for another season in life, I feel that now I am right here where I would like to be, willingly trusting and appreciating the experience of the moment, letting life be life. 
I love the autumnal gentleness in the air, those misty rainy days when I can sit at home and watch the pearls of raindrops caught on golden leaves shining like crystals on the poetic light, unafraid of falling. A book in my hands. A blanket over my feet. An aroma of sage and butternut puree from the kitchen. A feeling of being warm, comforted, calm and sheltered. There is real beauty in ordinary life, in taking the living slowly and making space for the change.
In a wonderful essay, The Beauty Of the Ordinary, Pico Iyer reminds us of the autumn's special, golden lesson – "to cherish everything because it cannot last". "Autumn days," he writes, "are reminders of how much we cannot afford to take for granted, and how much there is to celebrate right now."
The older I get, the more I am in tune with this wise, golden, ordinary Autumn. 
I am completely open to the enduring lessons of the falling leaf. To learn humility and resilience from its ending. To cultivate an attitude of respect and gratitude. To see the magic in the little things. To stay whimsical and ordinary at the same time... 
In nature's timeless forms, I contemplate that nothing lasts forever and perhaps, the art of life lies in its ephemerality. 
I find that liberating. 




Golden Autumn



"Autumn suits you perfectly," a friend of mine wrote to me the other day when she saw photos from my everyday walks into the woods. Since the beginning of the season, I can't get enough of the simple beauty that surrounds me wherever I go – from the gorgeous golden colours of the leaves to the perfectly shaped, raised from seeds, ready to be picked squashes in the garden. The seasons change so effortlessly, without prompting, that if I am not paying close attention, I might overlook all the wisdom the Earth is offering to me each and every moment. 
I believe no other season teaches us so many profound lessons about life than fall does. And as I approach into a deeper season in my own life, I believe Autumn is my season. 
Knowing that each season is a journey of change and personal growth in preparation for another season in life, I feel that now I am right here where I would like to be, willingly trusting and appreciating the experience of the moment, letting life be life. 
I love the autumnal gentleness in the air, those misty rainy days when I can sit at home and watch the pearls of raindrops caught on golden leaves shining like crystals on the poetic light, unafraid of falling. A book in my hands. A blanket over my feet. An aroma of sage and butternut puree from the kitchen. A feeling of being warm, comforted, calm and sheltered. There is real beauty in ordinary life, in taking the living slowly and making space for the change.
In a wonderful essay, The Beauty Of the Ordinary, Pico Iyer reminds us of the autumn's special, golden lesson – "to cherish everything because it cannot last". "Autumn days," he writes, "are reminders of how much we cannot afford to take for granted, and how much there is to celebrate right now."
The older I get, the more I am in tune with this wise, golden, ordinary Autumn. 
I am completely open to the enduring lessons of the falling leaf. To learn humility and resilience from its ending. To cultivate an attitude of respect and gratitude. To see the magic in the little things. To stay whimsical and ordinary at the same time... 
In nature's timeless forms, I contemplate that nothing lasts forever and perhaps, the art of life lies in its ephemerality. 
I find that liberating. 




Read more »

November has presented itself this year as the most talented and impressive painter among the months, slowly drawing canvases of cloudy skies, wet leaves, and smoky fogs. While perfectly capturing Earth's treasures, November has displayed the most sophisticated color palette of deep brown and rich yellow, blended into old glory burgundy, with a mix of orange and green in between... I am in love with its artistic work and I spend every day diving into its exquisite exhibit of beauty, nature's brilliance, and sublime ordinariness. I learn from it, I drink with it, I breathe and grow in it...
I spread my eyes among the undressed trees, put my face into the gentle, fresh wind and feel...  
I chase the light – soft, plush and golden, play hide-and-seek with the tired from the summer sun and let it penetrate all the chambers of my heart...   
I rejoice in the solitude with autumn. I pulse with Earth's unhurried rhythm of grace and gain patience. This season offers me a refuge from the eventful summer and the bubbly mind. Humility emerges from its raw beauty. The world isn't such a broken place, blurring meaning, values and human dignity after all. Life is full of goodness and the good sinks into me as I sink into it. My small, separate self loosens and dissolves into what surrounds me. 
Autumn makes me settle into my home, my simple needs and disorderly dailiness. It teaches me how to observe with passion, savor my thoughts and live life in the slow lane... 

I am whole and full of gratitude. 

I taste like a pear tart.

I smell like happiness.





Thanks to a lovely supporter who sent me a heartwarming email, I reopened SylviaSimpleLife Etsy Shop with a limited quantity of original greeting cards featuring my simple photographs and my Holiday creations. The images are carefully selected in order to convey a message of a simple, handmade Christmas and a truly meaningful season. Baking cookies, making wreaths, wrapping a gift, decorating the home – it should be a celebration of its own. Spread some handwritten cheer this season with a gift of time and thought with these humble greeting cards.

 Shop the collection here


Thank you to all of you for your kindness and endless support! 



Sharing with Home Sweet Home


Autumn Impressions


November has presented itself this year as the most talented and impressive painter among the months, slowly drawing canvases of cloudy skies, wet leaves, and smoky fogs. While perfectly capturing Earth's treasures, November has displayed the most sophisticated color palette of deep brown and rich yellow, blended into old glory burgundy, with a mix of orange and green in between... I am in love with its artistic work and I spend every day diving into its exquisite exhibit of beauty, nature's brilliance, and sublime ordinariness. I learn from it, I drink with it, I breathe and grow in it...
I spread my eyes among the undressed trees, put my face into the gentle, fresh wind and feel...  
I chase the light – soft, plush and golden, play hide-and-seek with the tired from the summer sun and let it penetrate all the chambers of my heart...   
I rejoice in the solitude with autumn. I pulse with Earth's unhurried rhythm of grace and gain patience. This season offers me a refuge from the eventful summer and the bubbly mind. Humility emerges from its raw beauty. The world isn't such a broken place, blurring meaning, values and human dignity after all. Life is full of goodness and the good sinks into me as I sink into it. My small, separate self loosens and dissolves into what surrounds me. 
Autumn makes me settle into my home, my simple needs and disorderly dailiness. It teaches me how to observe with passion, savor my thoughts and live life in the slow lane... 

I am whole and full of gratitude. 

I taste like a pear tart.

I smell like happiness.





Thanks to a lovely supporter who sent me a heartwarming email, I reopened SylviaSimpleLife Etsy Shop with a limited quantity of original greeting cards featuring my simple photographs and my Holiday creations. The images are carefully selected in order to convey a message of a simple, handmade Christmas and a truly meaningful season. Baking cookies, making wreaths, wrapping a gift, decorating the home – it should be a celebration of its own. Spread some handwritten cheer this season with a gift of time and thought with these humble greeting cards.

 Shop the collection here


Thank you to all of you for your kindness and endless support! 



Sharing with Home Sweet Home


Read more »

This Fearless November


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There is nothing more invigorating than a walk in a crisp October Sunday morning after autumnal rain when the air is soaked with the smell of wet walnut leaves, freshly ground coffee, baked apples with cinnamon, a lovely fabric softener from a laundry... This amalgam of exciting fragrances of the neighborhood's simplicity conjoins perfectly with the highly saturated palettes of golden yellows soon to become fiery reds, with a mix of orange in between and a brown edge... The previously dusty sidewalks are covered with a new glossy coat of cleanness and small mirrored puddles in which you can see your reflection. The sun is so gentle, you close your eyes – you breathe in light and breathe out ease... 
Each season brings its own mood and I love how Autumn makes me feel. I have been waiting for this depressing and sad summer of mine to finally come to an end. For so long I wanted to somehow be on the other side of my life, back to normalcy. After numerous situations in which I came up against a brick wall and the loss of my beloved grandmother, my emotional composure was challenged and I failed to maintain a positive self-image. I put so much energy into the unproductive "why me" thinking that I wanted so badly to run from this miserable person I had become. I've always known that there are never easy paths in life and our days have always started and ended with uncertainty. What appeared surprisingly difficult to me this time, was my lack of ability to let go of old illusions of control and to embrace life as it is; to accept grieving as a fundamental process of life. It felt strange and disappointing to be almost halfway through my life and still trying to figure basic things out. I struggled to accept the reality, which according to every member of my family wasn't as bad as I thought. I needed to go back to some of my favorite books, authors, artists, and thinkers to find the courage to overcome fears and gain wisdom, to stop the fight within me, let things go and begin practicing acceptance. And somehow I knew for certainty that the change in seasons will bring a transformation not only in nature but in my lost self as well, because changes – welcomed or forced as well as the unbearable goodbyes have always been an important component of human evolution; we might never learn the true measure of our own strength if we haven't been pushed out of our comfort zone.
Slowly, with the warm colours of the landscape, with the return to the routine, the freshness of the rain, the abundance of the harvest, my pain, my fear and my worry have been replaced by open eyes able to notice again, a mind focused more on the present, a heart grateful for what I have rather than what I want, and arms widespread for the simple joys in my world... and the more I have been taking notice of what brings me joy, the more joy I have been finding in my everyday life (like cooking in the kitchen again and making this rich and flavourful oven-baked plum jam from locally grown Danson plums using my mom's recipe).
And perhaps the wisdom I have been searching for these past months hasn't been hidden only in the books, but rather in my ability to trust my own true nature and let life carry me through my darkest times and my glory...    



Plum Jam
 (makes 2 jars of 300ml)

Ingredients:

1 kg. Danson plums
0.5 kg. sugar
1 tbsp. lemon juice
1/3 cup water
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
vanilla bean

Directions: 

Wash, pit and cut the plums in half. Spread them in a baking dish. Add sugar on it and stir. Cover the dish and leave it for about 5-10 hours. Plums should absorb the sugar and release their juice. Add water, vanilla, and cinnamon. Stir well. 
Preheat oven to 300C. Bake until bubbles appear and plums texture gets dense – about an hour and a half, depends on how ripe the fruits are. Add 1 tbsp. of freshly squeezed lemon juice and bake for a few more minutes.
Pour jam into sterilized glass jars.   





 Sharing with Home Sweet Home




Plum Jam

There is nothing more invigorating than a walk in a crisp October Sunday morning after autumnal rain when the air is soaked with the smell of wet walnut leaves, freshly ground coffee, baked apples with cinnamon, a lovely fabric softener from a laundry... This amalgam of exciting fragrances of the neighborhood's simplicity conjoins perfectly with the highly saturated palettes of golden yellows soon to become fiery reds, with a mix of orange in between and a brown edge... The previously dusty sidewalks are covered with a new glossy coat of cleanness and small mirrored puddles in which you can see your reflection. The sun is so gentle, you close your eyes – you breathe in light and breathe out ease... 
Each season brings its own mood and I love how Autumn makes me feel. I have been waiting for this depressing and sad summer of mine to finally come to an end. For so long I wanted to somehow be on the other side of my life, back to normalcy. After numerous situations in which I came up against a brick wall and the loss of my beloved grandmother, my emotional composure was challenged and I failed to maintain a positive self-image. I put so much energy into the unproductive "why me" thinking that I wanted so badly to run from this miserable person I had become. I've always known that there are never easy paths in life and our days have always started and ended with uncertainty. What appeared surprisingly difficult to me this time, was my lack of ability to let go of old illusions of control and to embrace life as it is; to accept grieving as a fundamental process of life. It felt strange and disappointing to be almost halfway through my life and still trying to figure basic things out. I struggled to accept the reality, which according to every member of my family wasn't as bad as I thought. I needed to go back to some of my favorite books, authors, artists, and thinkers to find the courage to overcome fears and gain wisdom, to stop the fight within me, let things go and begin practicing acceptance. And somehow I knew for certainty that the change in seasons will bring a transformation not only in nature but in my lost self as well, because changes – welcomed or forced as well as the unbearable goodbyes have always been an important component of human evolution; we might never learn the true measure of our own strength if we haven't been pushed out of our comfort zone.
Slowly, with the warm colours of the landscape, with the return to the routine, the freshness of the rain, the abundance of the harvest, my pain, my fear and my worry have been replaced by open eyes able to notice again, a mind focused more on the present, a heart grateful for what I have rather than what I want, and arms widespread for the simple joys in my world... and the more I have been taking notice of what brings me joy, the more joy I have been finding in my everyday life (like cooking in the kitchen again and making this rich and flavourful oven-baked plum jam from locally grown Danson plums using my mom's recipe).
And perhaps the wisdom I have been searching for these past months hasn't been hidden only in the books, but rather in my ability to trust my own true nature and let life carry me through my darkest times and my glory...    



Plum Jam
 (makes 2 jars of 300ml)

Ingredients:

1 kg. Danson plums
0.5 kg. sugar
1 tbsp. lemon juice
1/3 cup water
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
vanilla bean

Directions: 

Wash, pit and cut the plums in half. Spread them in a baking dish. Add sugar on it and stir. Cover the dish and leave it for about 5-10 hours. Plums should absorb the sugar and release their juice. Add water, vanilla, and cinnamon. Stir well. 
Preheat oven to 300C. Bake until bubbles appear and plums texture gets dense – about an hour and a half, depends on how ripe the fruits are. Add 1 tbsp. of freshly squeezed lemon juice and bake for a few more minutes.
Pour jam into sterilized glass jars.   





 Sharing with Home Sweet Home




Read more »


                         "Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious." 
                                                                                                                                – Ruth Reichl

One of the most beautiful season in Ontario is here and the best way to welcome Autumn is to celebrate our connection to the generous earth and nature at its best. Harvest festivals and fall fairs are organized in big and small cities around the province giving people opportunities to share values of supporting local produces, local art culture and food education. Why is the local important? Besides learning where our food comes from, keeping in touch with the seasons and improving our health, by buying locally grown food we strengthen our community by investing our food dollars close to home. Did you know that every dollar you spend on food grown or harvested in Ontario or made from Ontario ingredients, contributes 300% more to the local economy than if you bought an import? Or that every dollar you spend on VQA wine, for example, instead of imported wine has 11 times the economic impact in Ontario? (Ontario Local Food Report). So, when last week I was invited to take part in a three-day food and drink festival held in the heart of downtown Port Hope, about an hour east of Toronto, I was excited. After all, who doesn't want to spend a Sunday eating freshly prepared local food, drinking craft beer (not me, but my husband) and fair trade coffee, listening to local bands, cooking with chefs, tasting winning pies from a pie-baking competition, drawing at the community coloring book and sticking fingers in a pink cloud of cotton candy made with organic sugar...

Lots of really nice things are happening at Cultivate: A Festival of Food and Drink and if you have a chance, go and participate next year. Go and celebrate a wonderful community that gathers to connect to Ontario's harvest season, to great local food, to local producers, knowledgeable chefs and to each other. A community that is aware of the importance of the farm-to-fork movement and food literacy. A community that knows that what we eat and how we eat it can change the world... Yes, it can!  



          
Do you have a favorite Fall event? 


Cultivate... community



                         "Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious." 
                                                                                                                                – Ruth Reichl

One of the most beautiful season in Ontario is here and the best way to welcome Autumn is to celebrate our connection to the generous earth and nature at its best. Harvest festivals and fall fairs are organized in big and small cities around the province giving people opportunities to share values of supporting local produces, local art culture and food education. Why is the local important? Besides learning where our food comes from, keeping in touch with the seasons and improving our health, by buying locally grown food we strengthen our community by investing our food dollars close to home. Did you know that every dollar you spend on food grown or harvested in Ontario or made from Ontario ingredients, contributes 300% more to the local economy than if you bought an import? Or that every dollar you spend on VQA wine, for example, instead of imported wine has 11 times the economic impact in Ontario? (Ontario Local Food Report). So, when last week I was invited to take part in a three-day food and drink festival held in the heart of downtown Port Hope, about an hour east of Toronto, I was excited. After all, who doesn't want to spend a Sunday eating freshly prepared local food, drinking craft beer (not me, but my husband) and fair trade coffee, listening to local bands, cooking with chefs, tasting winning pies from a pie-baking competition, drawing at the community coloring book and sticking fingers in a pink cloud of cotton candy made with organic sugar...

Lots of really nice things are happening at Cultivate: A Festival of Food and Drink and if you have a chance, go and participate next year. Go and celebrate a wonderful community that gathers to connect to Ontario's harvest season, to great local food, to local producers, knowledgeable chefs and to each other. A community that is aware of the importance of the farm-to-fork movement and food literacy. A community that knows that what we eat and how we eat it can change the world... Yes, it can!  



          
Do you have a favorite Fall event? 


Read more »
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