It Happens Every Year

When we hit mid-August, the days may still be sweaty-warm, but the nights turn cool bringing in the definite feel of autumn.

On my way to get milk from the dairy early this past week, I saw the first orange leaves on some maple trees.  For some reason (although it shouldn't have been a surprise), this year it hit me like a brick.  Probably because we've had such a busy summer with so much going . . . and (surprise, surprise) the list is not completed yet.

Sure, we've still got a couple of months of nice weather, but for us up here in the very northern part of the States, summer is over, folks, so I'd better switch mind gears pronto.

Last night I finished putting by our quota of pickles for the year.  (After my encounter with the bumble bee a week or so ago . . . they are still thick in among the pickling cucumber vines . . . I pick wearing hubby's heavy bee gloves that come up to my elbows.)

The desired quantity of beans (green and yellow wax) are in the freezer.  I haven't canned Dilly Beans for a few years, and because Daughter loves them, she's volunteered to help make a canner or two full of them today.

Cut our first head of broccoli last night.  If you remember, I planted them from seed in the garden later this year in the hopes of missing the egg-laying stage of the dreaded white cabbage moth and be successful in growing broccoli without any (shudder, ish-ish) little green worms.  Looks as though (shhh, could it be?) this may have worked because the head brought in was soaked in warm, salt water to drive any of the little buggers out and nary a worm did appear.  I can only hope the rest of the heads are the same.

When I planted my tepee trellis

of morning glories this spring

there was a volunteer sunflower

growing in the center

of the tepee.

 The sunflower grew and grew and now

 reminds me of Nature's Christmas tree

 with a star sunflower on top.

I've started to clean up the garden as crops are finished.  Two 8' x 4' compost bins are being filled with the refuge, and Papa Pea has been adding dirt and chicken house bedding in layers. 

Tomorrow (and today, also) is to be gray and drippy.  I'm scheduled to get together with gal pals tomorrow morning for a little sitting, visiting, catching up and handwork.  (Handwork?  What's that?  If it doesn't involve harvesting, washing, prepping and preserving produce from the garden, I haven't done any of it lately.)