by underswansea


It felt like fall this morning. Chilly and fog in the valley bottom. Lisa and I headed for the mountains to have breakfast. It wasn’t long and we broke through into blue sky. Willow barked at three whitetail deer, and set out to chase a spruce grouse. Lisa pointed out some turning leaves.

Later, I stopped for a visit with Deb and Kurt. We discussed how the tomatoes are behind. It’s going to take a good fall to get even a few vine ripened. Everything seems a little behind. My carrots are still small. The cabbage is just starting to form heads.

Lisa pickled 27 quarts of dill cucumbers yesterday. My job was picking dill and peeling garlic, and, taking the finished product downstairs. I am certainly not the brains of the operation!

Lisa is a wonderful preservist (if there is such a word), she has faithfully kept recipes from her grandmother and my mother. She insists those recipes be adhered to.

I am like that with the garden. Detroit dark red, tender green, chantenay red core, norlands and swede turnips, it seems those old varieties are still the best.

We crawled back down to the valley. Left the blue sky for the clouds. It was mid afternoon before they lifted, only to reveal a storm.