On Grief & Grieving - September 2026 - Continued

September 16, 2026

Wednesday, September 16, 2026

I awoke at around 6:30 this morning and was greeted by another incredibly gorgeous and comfortable September day. At nearly 7:00 AM, it was 61 degrees with 90 percent humidity and a gentle five-mile-per-hour breeze coming from the south-southwest.

After beginning my second cup of coffee at the kitchen counter near the patio door, I moved outside to the deck to watch the world awaken.

As the buses passed by carrying students to the schools surrounding me, my attention was drawn to the sunlight filtering through the now-mature ornamental grass

between the shed and garden.

Neal passed by on his way to school at around 7:20,

and we spoke briefly about what a beautiful morning it was before wishing each other a good day.

The forecast called for a high of 86 degrees with partly cloudy and sunny conditions for most of the day, along with a chance of rain around 6:30 this evening. I suspected that once the temperature climbed above 80, I might retreat indoors, although I wasn’t making any promises.

At around 7:30, I noticed that the plants on the deck were looking thirsty, so I gave them all a good soaking. While doing so, I spotted three wild turkeys crossing the field and hillside behind the garden.

They made their way toward the guardrails near the middle school parking lot and eventually disappeared from view. I hoped they wouldn’t attempt to cross the road during the morning school traffic, or they might make themselves eligible for an early appearance on someone’s Thanksgiving table.

By 8:03, the sun had risen above the canopy of trees bordering the wooded area beyond the garden.

A few minutes later, the school traffic had mostly disappeared, and much to my surprise, I had not seen any construction vehicles passing the house. What had been a couple of hours of noisy, irritating traffic suddenly became serene, quiet, and very welcome.

I shared a map and a Google Earth view of the area surrounding my home to better illustrate just how many schools are nearby and why there is so much traffic at the beginning and end of every school day.

By 8:30, the sunlight had become intense enough for me to remove my fleece jacket and consider raising the umbrella if I intended to remain outside. However, the kitchen was beginning to call. A package of dried cranberries flavored with blueberry and lemon was waiting to become the featured ingredient in another batch of biscotti, which I planned to dip in white chocolate and sprinkle with pistachios.

By about 10:00, I had prepared the dry and wet ingredients and placed everything in the refrigerator to chill while I returned to the deck for a little rest and relaxation. Before adding the fruit, I rehydrated it in a mixture of amaretto and cognac. After draining away some of that liquid, I naturally sampled it rather than allowing anything perfectly good to go to waste. It left a delightful tingling sensation on my tongue and confirmed that the day’s operation was proceeding with maximum efficiency.

The formed biscotti logs went into the oven at around 10:35.

I set both the oven timer and a timer on my phone to make sure nothing interfered with the plan.

While they were undergoing their first bake, I moved to the recliner and turned on the television. A few minutes before the timers sounded, the entire upper level of the house filled with the most incredible aroma. I could actually smell the blueberries with a hint of lemon in the air, and it came remarkably close to being a religious experience.

Once the logs had cooled enough to slice and undergo their second bake,

I sampled a few of the smaller end pieces. The combination of cranberry, blueberry, lemon, and the underlying almond flavor was beyond description. Those little pieces may have been small, but they were enormous in flavor, and that was before the biscotti had even been dipped in chocolate and coated with pistachios.

At around 1:24, the weather remained incredibly beautiful, so I enjoyed a later-than-usual lunch on the deck.

Afterward, I returned to the kitchen and completed the biscotti, dipping some in white chocolate and generously coating the ends with chopped pistachios. I finished sometime between 2:00 and 2:30 and did a partial cleanup before moving to the recliner for what I intended to be only a short nap.

I should have known better.

I turned on a series that I believe was called The Box or Black Matter, but fell asleep rather quickly and awoke just in time to catch the end of the second episode.

It was somewhere around 4:00 or 4:30 when I decided it might be time for dinner. After stepping outside and realizing that the weather was still very accommodating, I prepared a plate of pasta with tomato sauce and grated cheese and, much to my delight, enjoyed my second meal of the day on the deck.

Shortly after dinner, while catching up on phone messages and missed calls, I noticed that Fran’s cousin Frank had called the previous day. I returned his call at around 5:30, and we spoke until approximately 6:15. It was good to talk with him since we hadn’t spoken in quite some time. He told me about his latest adventure, selling his house and moving into a condominium.

Naturally, our conversation eventually included the familiar subject that seems to arise whenever older people get together: our health, or the lack thereof.

While sitting on the deck later, I noticed another turkey near the oak tree attempting to cross the road amid the evening traffic. A couple of times, he stepped forward as though he intended to show the passing cars who was boss, but quickly reconsidered and retreated.

Wise bird.

He eventually crossed safely and disappeared into the hedgerow in front of my neighbor’s house. I waited for quite some time with my camera ready, expecting more turkeys to follow, but saw nothing except additional cars.

At around 6:45 or 7:00, the husband and wife who live near the bottom of the hill passed during their regular walk. I had invited them to stop and help me taste-test the biscotti on their return trip home, and while I was cleaning the dinner dishes and preparing the next morning’s coffee, I heard them greeting me through the patio door.

I invited them inside, offered them coffee, and suggested that they have at least half a cup, especially if, like me, they enjoyed dipping biscotti into their coffee.

They sampled four versions: plain almond, almond dipped in milk chocolate and dusted with pecans, the new cranberry-blueberry-lemon variety without chocolate, and the same fruit biscotti dipped in white chocolate and coated with pistachios.

When I first asked which they preferred, they politely said that all of them were delicious. I pressed a little harder, explaining that I appreciated their encouragement but truly wanted to know which one they would choose if they could select only one. They both agreed with my own choice: the cranberry-blueberry-lemon biscotti dipped in white chocolate and finished with pistachios was the clear winner. I now had both a biased opinion and two relatively unbiased opinions confirming that today’s creation was something special.

At around 7:45, my son called from North Carolina, and we spoke for approximately half an hour before he said he was going to take a shower and head to bed. When he asked what I had been doing lately, I told him about my newfound adventure down Biscotti Lane.

After hearing about all the varieties I had prepared, he asked why I hadn’t simply made plain, ordinary almond biscotti.

I replied, “I thought you knew me better than that.”

He said that he did know me and wasn’t surprised, but when he comes home for Christmas, he wants plain almond biscotti without any of the extra ingredients. I laughed and told him I would see what I could do.

That has now become my Christmas challenge: to make a supposedly plain and ordinary almond biscotti so exceptionally good that no one could possibly consider it ordinary. I may even slip one cranberry-blueberry-lemon biscotti dipped in white chocolate and pistachios into the container, strictly for comparison purposes.

I’m already looking forward to trying more flavor combinations, although I will probably hold off for a few days. At the moment, I am up to my ears in biscotti, which is hardly a bad predicament. Knowing how much I enjoy sharing the results of my kitchen adventures, however, I suspect a good portion of them will soon be making their way out the door to family, friends, and neighbors.

One thing is for certain regarding todays culinary adventure, I am confident Fran would have relly enjoyed my latest attempt at preparing memorable biscotti...