It's not autumn that it used to be. And neither am I.

Nothing is like the old autumn .. Those from childhood. Then we knew that the newspaper was in the great ripe autumn smell of winter, paprika, jam and ajvar, which the whole street smelled of. When the roar and murmur of women’s voices could be heard from the yard because the winter was being prepared together – by the neighbors, in principle one day at one, one day at the other.

As a class schedule, this is how the schedule was defined, in which women’s handles were alternated in a mixture of a deep massive cauldron with a large wooden cooker. Every day, it was known who was in charge of lunch, and that housewife would be released from work around the winter because she was preparing a big lunch for the others. Homemade coca soup (because of course it had to be a “dish with a spoon”). Beans from the garden, with homemade ribs. Homemade bread. Pies of various kinds. Instead of strudel cakes and rolls, saltines. Various types of compote. It was everything.

Everyone would bring crops from their gardens, as much how many gave birth to them. Together they would make it all, peel it, chop it, prepare it. The children participated in the packing. Their job was to cut square pieces of cellophane, and the boys cut rubber bands for bicycle tires, so they would pack jars. Crowded jars, of the most colorful colors that even the best painters would not know how to mix, were divided equally. No matter who brought how many fresh groceries. But the unwritten rule, in that fairest distribution of winter, was that a couple of jars always went more to the hearth in which there were more children.

To have to spread ajvar and marmalade on cold winter days. To those in whom we all knew how to pull our mother by the sleeve, asking: “Is there anything sweet?”, And she always had a cannon-like answer (the answer we hated then as children): “You have jam, spread, and milk.” and we would roll our eyes because for God’s sake, it’s not “sweet”!

) Now they pay dearly for “those” jams, ajvars, sour peppers. For those former ones, which were full of pantries and which were understood as supplies of every household. Now they are hiring designers to make these same jars as good as possible, to make them look as authentic as possible to the local ones at the time, because that is a guarantee of better product sales.

And now autumn is becoming more and more a period of cloudy weather, rain, depression – as they say.
A difficult period because they need to take children to school in the rain. It is also inconvenient to drive in the rain. The crowds are indescribable. Clouds are also gloomy weather. You can no longer even sit in the gardens of cafes. Winter is almost non-existent. And you can’t make a winter house in a building, in the city. And it doesn’t pay off, there are so many well-known renowned manufacturers who deliver what you want from the winter range to your home address. They say “home made 100%”. It can also be paid in installments.

Eh autumn, how have you ever been warm… So much so that these childhood memories are enough to warm my soul in these cold, impersonal days when almost no one feels the joy of your coming and lasting.

Eh autumn, how warm were you once ..

Author: Maja Despotica Despot / Femina