Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness...and soup, Keats might have said. The seasons are changing, it's time to bring out my 70s-yellow Dutch oven, he might have said.
Except you can't just bring it out, the thing is heavy, it is the weight of a neutron star, and requires that I say to my husband, Piss Boy! Fetch me that Dutch oven. (I've watched Mel Brooks' History of The World altogether too many times and -- of course -- The Producers, a seminal work of art, "I'm cold, I'm wet, and I'm hysterical" is how I frequently feel.)
My 70s-yellow Dutch oven is heavy, that helps to keep me grounded. With lighter pans, like fry pans, I am want to drift away like a balloon.
My Dutch oven is heavy and filled with delicious stew. I am good at chopping things up like vegetables, and my confidence, into leeetle tiny pieces, very very small and warm vegetable stew is ancient Ayurvedic goodness, restorative for Kappa-Pitta types like moi-self, and the modern world.