Reinvent. Change it up. Give up the old. Explore. Experiment. Do it a new way.
Yep. I agree. From the liberation of menopause comes the willingness to try new things. For me, that’s been a happy game changer.
But sometimes, I like to do things exactly as I always have. Just like my mother did. Sometimes, the joy of being me right now is being the same me I was thirty years ago. And that’s why I love to make applesauce.
I wash the apples. I let them drip off in a colander that belonged to my mother-in-law.
Then I slice them. I dump them into a Revereware pot I got as a shower gift.
I cook them on a stove that was old when we moved into this old house. Soon I see the the steam. I take in the slight aroma that whispers, “Fall…” I listen to the apple slices prancing about in the boiling water.
And when they are soft, I put them in the grinder. Not the same grinder my mom had but one that looks just like hers. I turn the handle. So simple. Applesauce plops out the bottom.
I add some sugar. Yes, sugar. Poor sugar with its bad rap. I add it anyway.
Than I taste. The flavor varies depending on the apples I use. Tart apples, “cooking apples” “as my mom called them, seem best.
The experience takes me back, way back.
And sometimes, that’s the most invigorating way to celebrate a brand new day.