It's on the horizon, around to corner, I can feel it.
Another of my favorite seasons.
This summer was tremendous. Overflowing with deliciousness, joyful conversations, rich experiences and more knowledge about how to grow delicious food.
Thank you Summer 2010. You rock.
I'm heading out the door to get some more tomatoes harvested for the Slow Food restaurant. There are a few there and still, waaay tooooo many on my kitchen counter.
Didn't get them canned yet.
Something wonderful is happening today.
Sam woke up to his Mr. A-Z play list. That's a good sign.
Not an underground hip hop morning.
And he bought me a cup of Italian Roast smack-your-head-awake yumminess.
He and I had a primal bonding pioneer day yesterday that I will never forget. He is ahead of his time and a true jewel in my life. All of his passions, moods and opinions are wonderful to watch. He teaches me.
An odd thing is happening in the hood that we can't quite figure out.
We have been enjoying watching the activities on a rose nursery that is by the northeast corner of our farm. It's beautiful when all of the blooms are open. Peach, red, yellow. I like looking over there to see the staff dressed in a similar fashion to me....long sleeve shirts and wide brimmed hats. We wave and smile to each other in a kindly and knowing way. We see the beauty in each other's activities.
For three days all of the potted plants have been loaded onto trucks and off they go. What I'm not seeing are replacement plants standing in their place. That's the part that is odd. We love seeing the roses and I love knowing those lovely people are working. I want my suspicions to be wrong. What if it's closing? Did the owner sell all the plants and it's going to be a skeleton of what it once was? I haven't seen the staff for a few days. Odd. That's what it is. Kind of unnerving.
Maybe I don't need to figure it out.
Go harvest. Listen to the chicken symphony. Feel the last breaths of summer blowing across my little patch of Goodness.