George Eliot once said, “Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.” If I had the option to fly from autumn to autumn all over the world, I would, too. It is, by far, my favorite season, and all year long, I eagerly anticipate the crisp air, the rustling leaves and the scent of apple pies baking in ovens that comes with fall. Although the seasonal change is not as pronounced here in Califonia as it was in Illinois, there is still that lingering expectancy in me for cool breezes, red and orange leaves and harvest festivals. We are experiencing a bit of an Indian Summer here in the Bay Area, but the anticipation this weekend for even the slight change of seasons that is to come was in the air.

Saturday I volunteered with CUESA in the morning. I was in charge of shopping for the chefs this week, and naturally I did a little shopping for myself at the same time. I stopped at the Juniper Ridge booth for the first time, attracted by the smell of cedar coming from the display. I purchased a cedar smudge whose smell is intoxicating, as well as some White Sage incense that makes my apartment smell like a forest.

I noticed the absence of asparagus and artichokes and apricots and berries at the market; soon the figs and strawberries and peaches and pluots will no longer be coloring the stalls; but in their place, cucumbers, eggplants, tomatoes, melons, apples and jujubes are appearing. In a few weeks, I expect to see quince for sale and I can't wait to make a lattice-topped quince pie!

In the afternoon, I went to the Oakland International Film Festival at the Grand-Lake Theater to see ‘Ripe for Change,’ a documentary by Emiko Omori about the intersection of agriculture and politics in California over the last thirty years.

From the film's website: "Through the 'window' of food and agriculture, Ripe for Change reveals two parallel yet contrasting views of our world. One holds that large-scale agriculture, genetic engineering, and technology promise a hunger-less future. The other calls for a more organic, sustainable, and locally focused style of farming that reclaims the aesthetic and nurturing qualities of food and considers the impact of agriculture on the environment, on communities, and on workers." It was a great short film; I recommend seeing it if you get the chance.

On Sunday, Petey and Alicia and I headed up to the Russian River Food and Wine Festival in Monte Rio, at the aptly-named intersection of the Gravenstein Apple and Bohemian Highways. The festival itself was nice. We did get to taste a bit of wine and hard cider as well as cheeses and other artisianal foods.

Feeling that we deserved a little more for the $22/each we spent to get in, we hatched a plan to try and con our way into the VIP area where there was more food and drink, but we failed miserably. Specifically, I failed miserably for the group. I was promptly escorted out of the area and sent back to the 'common' festival. We ate pizza, instead. And drank more. And more. And more. We may all be 5'4" or less, but we can pack it away!

After we’d had our fill of food and wine and embarrassment, we went down to the banks of the Russian River and played with ducks, threw rocks at people rowing past in boats and took loads of pictures of our butts. I mean, c'mon! Who wouldn't with backsides like that?

On the way home, per the suggestion of a man we met at the festival, we stopped at ‘Ace in the Hole,’ the cider pub where Ace Cider is made.

I’d been wanting to go here forever and I was *so* excited that the girls were up for it! We each got cider (I got the Wild Card Cider, Alicia the Perry and Petey the Apple) and French fries with malt vinegar, and we sat out in the open courtyard, laughing, cussing and carrying on like the rowdy divas that we are.

Quite a fun day weekend, I must say!