Summer has definitely fled the scene. Tomatoes are in their last throes.
My brother called me and asked if we'd like to come over for the last BLTs for the year. Would I??? Of course. Armed with spelt bread and a couple pounds of fresh mozzarella cheese, we'll be headed out any minute now. The end of season taste-fest. So sweet, yet will be only a memory in about three hours.
Then we wait until August, 2008, for the next decent tomatoes. I wonder what the difference will be for me . . . and you. What books will I have sold? Written? How will my kids and grandkids fare?
Autumn is a time when plants die back, our land cools down, and we close our shutters for winter. But only for new hope in the spring.
And that's our gift every year: hope.
Go Mariners!
Jacquie
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