If I smell onions, oil or fried vegetables I go back to a sweaty car in India going through Himachal Pradesh, stopping at a roadside for strong black tea. I would go back to that moment any time, any where.

In my 'olden days' (i.e. my 20s) I spent a lot of time walking my rescued Beagle. I hadn't yet married my husband and I lived in a tiny apartment with just my dog. Every evening after work I would take him for a walk. Much like you, I dreaded it in the dark months. We did the same thing – walk along streets with beautiful old two-story homes (in our case) and I'd look longingly into the glowing houses.

I have a toddler daughter now and a different dog, so our dog walks are very different and lovely in their own way, but I do reflect warmly on all those (many many) walks I took with my sweet old dog.

Thank you so much for the beautiful familiar post. Lovely writing as always.

In other news, just gifted my honey with a cooking class with Becky Selengut at Delancey, and he LOVED it! You have your hands in so many interesting things!