We woke to rain this morning and today has a certain crispness than says the seasons are changing.
This afternoon my pressure saucepan sang me a song while it cooked venison and potatoes. If I closed my eyes, I could picture my granny in her kitchen with the pressure pan singing for her.
I went out to the garden and picked the last of the peppers. I have a few green tomatoes that might make it before it gets too cool. I'll be sad to be without fresh produce come winter. I didn't plant nearly enough in my little garden this year. Next year, I need to triple its size.