It always happens. One morning in August I wake up and the color outside has changed. That’s it, summer’s over. Not literally, as I noticed the color change before this recent run of hot temperatures (yesterday being the highest at 38C). But I just know we have begun our journey into fall.
I marvel at how the space I carefully calculated to leave between the rows has just disappeared. I thought there would be enough room to walk thru the rows but no. Nature abhors a vacuum and there is no space. I’ve been picking gallons of peas which have made a stunning recovery from the ravaging guineas this spring. The vines have towered over the pea fence and are flopping over on each side. Soon they will be done, and the beans too. I’ve made a few jars of mustard beans and pickled beets. I want to blanch and freeze a few bags of beans, bagging them in the vacuum sealer my kids bought me for my birthday. It’s been so hot I’ve just picked and washed the beans waiting for a cooler day. I just can’t stand in front of a hot stove blanching beans. The raspberries are winding down now too. There’s just enough for a handful here and there. But look at the size of the berries. Those yellow berries came to me courtesy of an old friend from the airport. He told me his grandparents brought these vines from Germany to the new world in the bottom of their steamer trunk a hundred years ago or more. He brought me some plants from their old homestead. They are sweeter than the red but still have the raspberry zing on the tongue.
My neighbor had her 88th birthday last week and asked me to make her a cake. She had told her kids she didn’t want any fuss but thought if anyone visited she should have a cake, just in case. This morning mommy guinea finally showed up after more than two months away. I think she may have started sitting but had too many eggs so left them when they didn’t hatch and started over on a new clutch. I couldn’t count them but it looked like three million babies. My daughter helped me to catch them as guinea parents are really terrible. We caught 18 then caught mommy and put them in the barn. I cleaned it out from the last batch, a hen with baby guineas whom we dubbed “dirty mommy” cause of the terrible mess she made. Doubtless some will still die because that’s what they do, but far less than if I just left them to wander outside.
Today is much cooler with smoke in the air from the fires in BC. Perhaps I’d better get on those beans…