Waiting for the pot

Which looks the yummiest? Right now, the Macs are prime (on the right). There's nothing like the crunch of a crisp Macintosh on a blustery October day. The Macouns (on the left) are a close second, but since they store longer, they will have to wait. And lastly, the heritage Baldwin, our longest storing apple (in the middle) will be the last variety we eat. In the meantime, I'll make up a big batch of rosy applesauce with the Macs. Callie isn't too particular. She'll eat any bit of apple--they're all good to her!

The apples give my cellar a lovely aromatic smell. And it's a comfort to see all the fruit and vegetables stored down there for the coming winter ahead.

The threat of winter...

A few random snowflakes blew around this past Friday, threatening us with an early winter. And as I write, sleet is snicking against the window pane. Wood crackles in the stove while Callie snores in the nearby chair. I'm surrounded by the sweet smell of apples. Last week we picked over 100 lbs. of Macs, Macouns, and Baldwins. I have to move them into mouse-proof containers in the cellar for over-wintering.

This is the time of year when I'm scurrying around like the critters, caching my winter food supplies, stacking and splitting the wood, battening down the hatches in preparation for the impending winter snows. We still have some hardy Swiss chard, parsley, and carrots, braving the sub-freezing temperatures. John's cold-weather greenhouse is working well for extending the life of our remaining green peppers. But I don't think they'll develop much more and may need to pulled to make way for some winter crops. I harvested the last of the basil and oregano which is now hanging to dry in the spare room.

Yup, I love this time of year. The cold sweetness of autumn represents the grand finale to our summer growing season.

Woodchick

Overwhelmed by the pile of wood I needed to trim down, I asked John for a chainsaw lesson. And after using the machine, I have a new respect for how people managed to harvest wood in the good old days. Yes, it was much faster, but man, what a heavy thing to wield, all while a whizzing chain is flying around. I did only a small amount and then handed it back over to John, my arms like macaroni. I figured it was too dangerous for me to be using if my arms were tired. So now I've earned a new nickname, Woodchick!

Stacking Winter Wood

Ah, another summer chore that I'm finally getting done in October! After chunking up Big Bertha, with a lot of help from my father and brothers, we finally got most of the wood split last weekend. The pile sat in the center of the driveway for a week, with John and I trying to noodle our way around it to park the cars. Each day, after work, I'd stack a little more until darkness called a halt. Today we made some serious headway. Unfortunately, a fair amount still needs to be cut down to fit in the little Jotul. We will be all set for wood for the next two years.

Closing down the garden

One lone sunflower, planted by a bird or chimpunk, flowered behind the woodpile, it's face turning to the sun. Even the basil is leaning towards the southwest as the sun slides further down the horizon.

I spent most of today cleaning up the gardens. The heirloom Brandywines succumbed to the late blight, forcing me to rip out the plants, then pluck the last remnant tomatoes, and a final serving of green bush beans. Curiosity got the better of me--I had to see how our carrots were fairing. Lovely, full-bodies carrots had been hiding under the Swiss chard! Even Callie tried to steal one from my bucket. Never trust a hungry Rottweiler. A few hardy butternut squash survived the squash vine borer infestation, but we won't have near the crop cellared that we did last winter. And as for John's onions--I'm afraid they're green onions, not bunching storage onions. Our remaining pepper plants are enjoying warmth under John's new hoop house (yet another project under construction in the yard). He hopes to plant some hardy winter crops under it soon.