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湖畔小屋
Little Cottage by the Lake

[ 2011-07-11 12:13]

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By Stefanie Wass

祝平譯

What a crisp, colorful autumn afternoon.

Crimson tipped maples paint the rural landscape as we make our way to my aunt’s shady lakeside cottage. Overhead, a flock of geese fly in “V” formation, seemingly pointing us to the Western Pennsylvania border, past miles of roadside pumpkin stands and endless fields of late season sweet corn.

Finally, my husband turns down the familiar gravel road. I spot the lake, glistening in the warm October sun.

“We're here!” I rustle my girls from the back seat. “Hurry and say hello to everyone.”

The small white cottage reminds me of a doll house—the good cozy kind, where friends and family happily gather, spilling out into the yard when the quarters get a bit tight. I smile as I walk past the well manicured lawn, bedecked for fall with orange and yellow mums peeking from cast iron buckets.

As always, dried cornstalks climb the back porch rails. I spy a row of perfectly orange pumpkins, gifts from my uncle’s garden. I wonder if my girls will remember to take one home at day’s end. For years, my uncle has sent home a pumpkin with each child, just in time for Halloween.

Hopping out of the car, the girls crunch through the leaves, hoping to sample appetizers on the back porch table. In an instant, their cheeks are stuffed with crab dip, Amish Swiss cheese, and trail bologna.

Family seems to be everywhere. Cousins, aunts, and uncles trickle out from the cottage, sharing hugs and gossip in the wooded yard. Gathered in groups, my chatty Scotch Irish clan prepares for our autumn tradition—an outdoor clambake, held annually on the first Sunday in October.

Husks fly off golden ears of sweet corn as we all pitch in, removing silky threads from more than forty cobs. Great aunts, unaware that they could be sitting down, scurry about setting tables, slicing juicy red tomatoes, and taking surreptitious sips of homemade berry wine. The men hover as they always do, around the fire pit.

I chuckle at this primitive scene—men tending the fire and women preparing the vegetables. Why is this always the case?

Salty steam wafts upward from the coals as the tempting smells of clams and chicken tease my taste buds. What could be better than this? Somehow, I can’t imagine being anywhere else on this idyllic autumn afternoon.

Sitting around card tables in the yard, we manage to quiet down for a prayer of thanksgiving.

Then, at long last, it is time to dig in. Tearing open the mesh bag of steamers, I can hardly wait to swirl each clam in drawn butter. What a gloriously gritty delicacy. Heaven seems near as a lobster tail is placed upon my plate, followed by sweet potatoes and a cup of steaming clam broth.

My daughters, content with an ear of sweet corn each, amazingly don't seem to care that much for seafood.

“I can help you out there.” my husband teases, reaching for their leftover lobster. We laugh with my cousins as we swap family news and gorge on a final, overindulgent treat—homemade cheesecake and raspberry pie.

As the sun sets, we pour second cups of coffee, warm mugs that prolong our time together, if only for a few precious minutes.

“Don’t forget to take a pumpkin home with you,” my aunt reminds us. “Did you get a candle off the mantel?”

Our girls pick their future jack-o-lanterns as I select my party favor—a homemade cranberry scented votive. In the year ahead, the candle will take me back to this place, filling my house with the light and warmth of family.

“Thanks again for the clams, the pumpkin, the candle!”

It is the following morning and I am struggling to email my aunt. How can I show my appreciation for it all—the glorious weather, the delectable food?

Finding next year’s calendar, I flip ahead to October, making sure to highlight the first Sunday in bright orange marker. Perhaps the best sort of thank you involves simply being present for cherished traditions.

Next year, and hopefully for many years to come, I will be there, feasting with family at the little cottage by the lake.

一個多么晴朗、多彩的秋日午后啊。

在去往姨媽家陰涼湖畔小屋的路上，深紅色的齒狀楓葉映紅了鄉村的風景。在我們頭頂，一群天鵝飛成了“人”字形，似乎在為我們指路，帶我們去賓夕法尼亞西部邊陲。路邊是幾英里長的南瓜攤，還有無窮無盡的田野，地里的甜玉米都成熟了。

最后，我丈夫拐進一條熟悉的碎石路，我一下子認出了那個湖，它在溫暖的十月陽光下閃閃發亮。

“到了！”我推搡著后排的姑娘們，“快點！跟大家打個招呼。”

這座白色小屋讓我想起娃娃之家——很溫馨的那種，朋友和家人快樂地聚集在一起，地方擁擠時大家就來到院子里。我微笑著走過修剪得整整齊齊的草坪，草坪上點綴著秋天才有的橘色和黃色的菊花，從鑄鐵桶后面探出頭來。

和往常一樣，曬干的玉米桿倚靠在屋后陽臺的欄桿上。我注意到一排鮮橙色的南瓜，它們產自我姨父的花園。我好奇我的姑娘們會不會想著過完今天后帶一個回家？多年來，姨父回家時一直送給每個孩子一個南瓜，正好趕上過萬圣節用。

從車里跳出來后，姑娘們踩著嘎吱作響的樹葉，期待在屋后陽臺的餐桌上品嘗到開胃菜。頃刻間，她們的臉上的表情讓人覺得她們仿佛已經吃到螃蟹醬、亞米西瑞士奶酪和博洛尼亞大紅腸一樣。

家人似乎無處不在。堂兄堂弟、姨父姨媽陸陸續續從小屋里走出來，在綠樹成蔭的院子里和我們一一擁抱、閑談。我那帶有愛爾蘭和蘇格蘭混合血統的家族正聚集在一起，為我們金秋十月的傳統活動——戶外宴會——做準備。每年十月的第一個周日我們都會舉行這一活動。

我們一起動手，把四十多個金燦燦的甜玉米上的苞葉剝下來，把絲般的玉米穗抽下來。可愛的姨媽們，沒意識到自己本可以坐下來干活，而是跑來跑去地擺桌子、切多汁的西紅柿，偶爾品嘗一小口家釀的漿果酒。男人們則和往常一樣，守候在火坑旁。

這一原始場景讓我暗自發笑——男人看火，女人備菜。為什么總是這樣天經地義呢？

帶著咸味的蒸汽從炭火上四散開來，蛤蜊和雞肉的誘人香味挑戰著我的味蕾。還有什么比這更好的呢？不知怎么的，我無法想象在這充滿田園風情的秋日午后，還有什么比這湖畔小屋更好的地方了。

圍著院子里的牌桌坐下后，我們設法安靜下來，為感恩節做祈禱。

然后，在漫長的等待后，開飯的時間終于到了。掀開蒸鍋上面的網眼蓋，我迫不及待地要把每一個蛤蜊蘸到奶油醬里去。多么精致的一道菜啊！當一條龍蝦尾放到我的盤子里，再放上幾顆紅薯，加上一杯冒著熱氣的蛤蜊湯，我似乎就要步入天堂。

我的女兒們似乎并不那么在意海鮮的美味，每人啃著一個甜玉米棒子，便已經心滿意足，這真叫我吃驚。

“我來幫你吃吧，”丈夫跟我開玩笑，伸手去拿剩下的龍蝦。我們和堂兄堂弟們一邊享受最后一道令人陶醉的美食——自制的奶酪蛋糕和覆盤子派，一邊聊著家人的消息，一起開懷大笑。

太陽下山了，只為了再多待上珍貴的幾分鐘，我們又倒上第二杯咖啡，咖啡暖和了杯子，也延長了我們相聚的時光。

“別忘了帶個南瓜回家，”姨媽提醒我們。“你從壁爐架上拿蠟燭了沒？”

姑娘們挑選用哪個南瓜來做南瓜燈，我則挑選我的聚會紀念品——一個自制的蔓越橘香薰。今后，這個香薰蠟燭將點亮我的家，讓它充滿家的溫馨，帶我故地重游。

“讓我們吃到這么好吃的蛤蜊，還送我們南瓜和蠟燭，太感謝了！”

這是第二天早晨，我正在給姨媽發郵件。我該如何向她表達我對這一切的感激之情呢——好得不能再好的天氣，還有美味之極的食物？

找出明年的日歷，我直接翻到了十月份，用明亮的橘黃色標出了第一個星期天。也許，最好的感恩就是珍視傳統，并參與其中。

明年，而且希望以后的每一年，我都能去那，和家人一起在湖畔小屋共享美餐。

（來源：英語學習雜志）

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