Yep, Still Bitter

The preserving season is upon us. I had enough raspberries and blackberries this year to make up a batch of jam. Isn't it so pretty? Lane picked another 2 cups or so of raspberries this morning, not enough to make more jam, but enough for snacking on. And for it being the odd year for the apple tree, it sure has a lot of apples on it. I had Jack go out and thin them, so hopefully they won't be as small as last year. The peaches are coming along, but sadly our little peach tree in the front yard that had finally started to produce more than a few peaches died. We don't know why. It just up and died. We have lovely pepper plants - the ones I so carefully grew from seed - but they aren't producing any peppers. But they are nice and big and full and leafy. Sadly, I cannot preserve leafy. I tried growing tomatillos this year, and I'm not altogether sure what to do with them. I don't think there will end up being very many of them (1 plant) so I will probably just grind them up with the tomatoes for tomato sauce. The construction on the canal has uncovered some heretofore unknown grape vines. If the birds leave them alone, maybe I can do something with them. They are green, not Concord, so I'm not quite sure what to do with them. The juicer I bought a few years ago makes such easy work of the Concord grapes! I did juice last year, so I think I'll do some jelly this year.


I love that fall is coming.


Christmas projects are in the works . . . boxes of pectin are laying around on the counter tops . . . every trip to the grocery store has me buying canning lids . . .I look at the sweaters in my closet with a warm "I've missed you, old friend" sort of feeling . . . the rumblings of the beginnings of college football . . . It's all the sorts of things that make this old gal's heart swell with happiness. The next closest feeling is that nesting groove we ladies get into just before a new baby.


Of course, normally this time of year I also start my 30 day packing for my September cruise. Maybe I can talk Lane into wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts (which he hates with the white hot passion of a thousand suns) just to take the edge off my pain. The other option is for me to wander around in my swimming suit, which no one wants to see. Ever. So if you want to avoid such a terrifying sight, please come to my house and make my bed and dinner, and leave a little mint on my pillow and a towel animal on my bed. It's really not so much to ask.