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deborahjrossFor once, the weather prediction was right. Our first rain of the season began last night, a gentle on-and-off drizzle. I lay awake, listening to the patter on the roof. It held off for long enough so I could get peaceful with the change of the season, the loss of summer's benevolence. It seemed as if the world were holding its breath, flirting with autumn's brittle firey heat, and now sinking into this blissful renewal.
I spent last night dealing with the harvest of sweet basil. Our freezer is now stocked with prepared pesto and frozen fresh basil leaves. It will take a week for the aromas of crushed basil, garlic, and olive oil to leave our kitchen. Piles of pumpkins and winter squash are curing on our hearth, ready to be stored for the winter. The tomatoes are done, except for a few green ones we will pick as it's too cold now for them to continue ripening.
I spent last night dealing with the harvest of sweet basil. Our freezer is now stocked with prepared pesto and frozen fresh basil leaves. It will take a week for the aromas of crushed basil, garlic, and olive oil to leave our kitchen. Piles of pumpkins and winter squash are curing on our hearth, ready to be stored for the winter. The tomatoes are done, except for a few green ones we will pick as it's too cold now for them to continue ripening.
