The Water Between Places

Episode Three. The one that goes back for my grandmother.

I meant to tell you about my grandmother and her scones. Every time I tried to get to her, I kept finding water: a hot spring in Montana I went to get sober beside, a river in Colorado that would not stop for anything, and the flat green heat of Georgia, where the watcher in me was born at a kitchen table, listening to women say "remember when."

So this is an essay about what survives the leaving. About carrying a recipe across a country without knowing you packed it. About the difference between changing and losing yourself. And at the end, the original: Mema's orange scones, in her own measures, before altitude, before any of this. She had one from a chain, decided she could do better, and did.

Also from the house this week: the aspens have started, and a guest climbed Mount Royal with five scones in foil. What he did with them is the whole episode in miniature.

The recipe is written down at averylanemaxwell.com/kitchen. The places of the essays are drawn as a sky at averylanemaxwell.com/sky. The film is at averylanemaxwell.com/podcast.

⌂ The rooms of the house, the places of the essays, as a sky: averylanemaxwell.com/sky · every recipe an episode has left: averylanemaxwell.com/kitchen · the films and every episode: averylanemaxwell.com/podcast

♫ The Galena House playlist, the episodes, among the songs they sit with: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/55wkYr82P02Tsr4zgKZubw

A note from the house: Galena House Audio is the independent creative work of Avery Lane Maxwell. Stories and reflections are presented from the host’s personal perspective and recollection. References to real places, workplaces, or events do not represent statements on behalf of those organizations or their owners, employees, or guests. Certain identifying details may be changed or omitted to protect privacy. Nothing shared on the podcast should be understood as professional, medical, legal, or recovery advice.

A small note before we begin. This is a personal podcast. I'm telling these stories as I remember and understand them, from my own life and perspective. When other people wander into them, I'll protect what belongs to them. Some identifying details may be changed or omitted for privacy. And while some of this happens inside a real inn, these are my words, not the official voice of the property, its owners, or anyone else who works here. And, today, a recipe that belonged to somebody before it belonged to me.

All right. Come in. It's already warm.

So. Last week I told you this house didn't save me. And then I told you the whole enlightenment was noticing, and pots. I stand by the pots.