Getting To The End of The Garden

Even though it's been hot, humid, and sunny the garden has decided that summer, and therefore growing season, is over.  I've got the one pretty big gourd for a birdhouse and one a lot smaller, but then I wished for just one, didn't I?  That's what I got.  There is one good-size spaghetti squash and two smaller ones.  I've picked a few ripe tomatoes but the plants didn't grow much, never got even waist high.  I've got to amend the garden soil or maybe plant soybeans, something because every year the tomatoes don't thrive.  *sigh*  Maybe I'll stop at the County Extension office over the winter for a couple pamphlets, they've got lots of free info.














I started and finished Sudoku Almond #9 between supper and bedtime last night, and even cast on and knit the first row of Sudoku Stone #6.  It's measly because it was late and I was tired but I wanted a start on the next color.  I'll get the four Stone ones done this week, then start on the last three colors, one square of each color in rotation.  I figure that's the best way to keep from losing focus.














It came to me this morning that I had bread dough in the fridge that needs to be baked before I hie off to The Clearing one week from today (in fact, I'll probably be up there or near there by this time next Saturday!!!! but who's excited?) so I formed the loaves, made the cornstarch wash that sticks the sesame seeds to the crust, and they're rising.  See, I can freeze the baked bread but don't think I can freeze the dough, so I'll bake it all and freeze most of it.

I did something very unlike me this morning.  I got up to potty at 6:30 and instead of staying up I laid back down and slept for three more hours.  That is so not like me.  Now I feel as if half my day is gone before I've got my feet on the floor.  I feel well-rested (for once) but it's already after noon and I only had breakfast an hour and a half ago.  Jeez.  I think I'll skip lunch.

September 19--Russ Gutshall, Lighthouse Reef, Belize.  From the air everything about the view was shades of blue, from the palest blue-white at the shoreline to impenetrable midnight blue out at the drop-off.  Ellen always tried to for a window seat on the last leg of the flight to the island.  She wanted to be able to watch the crinkled silk surface of the ocean marked by the foamy white caps of breaking waves.  She hoped to see the spreading vee of ships' wakes as they plied the sea lanes and her pulse quickened when she saw the curls of sandbars in the shallows where the current swept around the island's south coast.  The jungle boasted as many shades of green as the ocean did blue.

Well, nothing's really happening but I think I painted an interesting picture.  I'd like to be in that plane seat on my way to a tropical island, wouldn't you?  Time to go check on my rising dough.
--Barbara