The body feels the change in the waning autumn daylight. There is the urge to be comfortable, to pull up a blanket, to linger over a cup of coffee on early, chilly mornings. The trees reflect the change in light by turning into a multitude of colours. Crisp, new fallen leaves emit a lingering smell that may remind some of light-filled after school days. Afternoons of kicking leaves as we make our way slowly home.
The small collection of leaves gathered by my girls quickly turned into a large one. I am often asked to “look after” the leaves that are collected so I carefully put them in my coat pocket. Days later, I’ll reach in to find the crumbled remains of a once vibrant and waxy leaf. To celebrate this season and do something with the leaves before they become too brittle to handle I have turned to taping them up with washi tape on a narrow wall in the kitchen. This job was quickly taken over with gusto by my eldest daughter. Every day, another leaf is added to the ever expanding wall. It is an organic perfectly imperfect wall that has so much love put into it. The leaves add temporary decoration to an area that sometimes looks forgotten. It reminds us to celebrate the small things.
I had been planning to make a cake to support the #fuckcancercake campaign organized by Lyndsay from Coco Cake Land. October was breast cancer awareness month and for every decorated, a $5 donation was being made to The Lipstick Project by Lyndsay. On the last weekend of October, I got to work, inspired by the children’s leaf wall, I decided to make an icing that matched the leaves. I baked a rich, gluten free chocolate layer cake (a recipe I will share with you in a different post). A simple buttercream icing was used to mask the cake. With the leftover buttercream, I coloured it (leaf) yellow with turmeric for piping and decoration.
The end result was an autumn #fuckcancercake which is outside of the typical, breast cancer pink. I couldn’t bring myself to feel limited by pink as cancer invades so many different parts of the body and there are colours associated with different cancer campaigns. I have known far too many family and friends who have been diagnosed with cancer, as I am sure you have too, reader. It is difficult to not feel hopeless with such a diagnosis. Why him? Why her? Why me? For that, I have no answer. If I can provide any solace in moving forward, it is the need to keep the conversation going. Talk about cancer. Find out what you can do to help or what community organizations can support you. There is hope, there is community and we need to know we can lean on each other when we need it.