This weekend the temperature dropped to 50 one night and it's only August. A reminder that fall is coming soon. Poodledoc, Jr is unhappy when I use the S word. He wants summer to go on forever. I always did when I was a kid.
But now, I'm in a different season both in the present sense and in my life. Yesterday, I froze 6quarts each of yellow and green beans. I cooked down a huge pot of just picked tomatoes, just picked onions and green peppers into a tasty pasta sauce. I froze another 6quarts of that concoction, but not before having Poodledoc, Jr smell a just opened, just picked sweet green pepper. Newborn.
All on top of the pesto from the previous weekend. Wow! I'm running out of room in my freezer compartment. Oh no! I need to save room for coffee, at least...
As to the season of my life? It ain't spring. Maybe feels like late summer. I'm uncertain about he season of my life. Something to contemplate before the ragweed pollen rises up like a beast to disturb my nasal passages. But for now, it's harvest time. Eating the wealth of the land which bonds me to the soil that many people refer to as "dirt".
1 comment:
What a sweet post, my friend.
I'm with T on the "S" word, although I am back taking a class this week. I figure it helps me to break that "No, I'm NOT going back! You can't make me!" barrier to get in there a little in August. Sigh.
Late summer is sure a nice time of year though. Not a bad time of life either.
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