This morning was the first time I noticed the sun rising later than I’ve remembered it doing so. Either that or the roosters overslept.
Overcome with a sinking feeling that my dreamy, summertime porch-swing naps would inevitably be coming to an end soon, I headed to the barn to feed the animals. That’s when I saw a leaf fall from a tree and realized just how delusional I was about winter coming. So, like a big smack in the face, here was the proof that my sweet, decadent nap days were fading… Fallen leaves. On the ground. ALREADY.
And here I haven’t even gotten started on my winter firewood yet. I procrastinate about it every year. This year especially, because I had house guests for two freaking months straight and it really sucked the life out of me. I nearly went brain-dead.
After the guests left I finally had time to look over the gardens. This harvest came out of the main garden…
And so did this…
Sadly, the tomatoes have not done the greatest this year. Blight is winning the battle. Let’s hope for the best.
I have a nice long four-day weekend ahead of me on Labor Day weekend (I’m off that Friday) to can tomatoes and decide which of my 5,624 pickled pepper and cucumber recipes I will try out. I’ve already gotten started on some of the tomatoes.
Winter is coming. I am not a cold weather person. I hate it. I hate it. Hate it. I makes me sad to know that I’ll have to wait months to dig into the earth and plant seeds again. It freaks me out trying to imagine how I’m going to overwinter the fig trees and then worry all winter long, wondering if they are still alive under all the snow and ice.
We’re only about a week away from September. Time to get that firewood put up and the chimneys cleaned out. The shitty weather is on its way. It won’t be long now. I hate it. ~A