September Musing

This time of year is my favorite, despite what comes next, the too-long New England winter. The front garden has taken on a wild, raggedy look, which I suppose any serious gardener might not like....but I love its untamed look and earthy smell. The ornamental grass has gone to seed, the leave tips now a rich burgundy red. Some of the herbs -- notably the tenacious mint, oregano and lemon balm -- are even more richly scented. I gather all these botanical delights for the last fresh bouquets of the season.

Late September sharpens the senses. The air is crisper, cooler and reminiscent of days starting school, a newness with the waning of summer. Here, we start reluctantly preparing for the colder months. Some of the tasks: taking the window air conditioning units out. pulling down some of the old storm windows, taking an inventory of cut cord wood, and what needs to be cut, perhaps doing  some exterior painting. And, debating on when we should have the boat hauled out for the winter. We don't give up on that too easily: one year, we decided to sail through Thanksgiving, and I'm not sure if perhaps we had lost our rationale minds, because when we finally did have it transported home in early December, that required motoring a few miles into 25 knot winds and blowing snow. So probably this year, we'll give up by the end of October.

Canning and freezing the garden's yield is almost done. But I do have enough green tomatoes for piccalilli and this time, I am going to use an old hand grinder that a dear friend gave me, instead of a food processor. It is time to think about baking apple crisp, butternut squash and roasts in the oven, and soups and stews.

This morning, the dog is snuggled under the bed covers and is in no hurry to get up, obviously sensing that there is a chill in the air, a chill that makes going out a little less appealing. (This is a rescued pit bull with the characteristic short hair and an intense dislike for cold air.) The cats are back sleeping with us, now that lying on the windowsills enjoying the balmy summer nights isn't an option.

And all is fine in our little corner house, our piece of heaven on earth.