I’ve been traveling for the last two weeks, or prepping to travel, or cleaning up from travel. A few days in Dallas for work, a few days in Pennsylvania with family and friends for a wedding. We took a few hours as a family at an adorable amusement park, visited my college campus, and played with many little loves whose parents used to be our drinking buddies. I’ve done eleven loads of laundry since Monday, and there’s one more to go. And there’s certainly no complaint in there because they were both wonderful trips and I am so happy to have made both of them.
But tomorrow is the last day of swimming lessons for the summer. The garden is approaching wild and crazy status, and we found red and gold leaves in the yard yesterday. I knew I’d be loathe to lose even one summer weekend in Maine, but after missing two in a row? Well. It feels like fall is knocking at the door, all of a sudden. The baby birds in the shed have flown away and we have seen several deer poaching our apples – first an eight-point buck, and yesterday a doe.
Our neighbor gifted us a huge bag of beans the other day. We’ve had them for two meals now, and so tonight I blanched the rest for the freezer, tucking them in next to several bags of green pepper strips for winter chili and fajitas. I thinned the carrots the other evening, and did a little happy dance in the dirt when I saw my hands full of real food. I truly don’t think that feeling will ever get old. The kale is coming out tomorrow, and I’ve started sketching plans for some post-season garden construction to prepare for next year. We found a blackberry bush near the flagpole, too. It was a beautiful 73* here today – perfect for playing outside and exploring the yard to see what changed while we were away.
It’s not all roses, of course. Egg production has been down since we got back, and I need to touch base with our chicken sitters this week to get their report. We’ve been getting some rough-surfaced eggs over the last month, like unfinished porcelain, and several others that are watery and runny inside with no contained yolk, so I’ve got some research to do. The younger birds still are not mixing with the older ones. And something is eating my tomatoes! But overall, August in Maine is pretty darn nice.