Autumn does not read the calendar... it's chilly out there.

It'd be really difficult to deny that autumn is upon us, regardless of the calendar. Foggy mornings, chill temps, and bright sunny afternoons are all lovely. But sad, too. I really need to gird myself to go out to the garden boxes and consider what to keep and what to let go. 

I suppose there's a metaphor in there somewhere, but I'm not pushing for it. I'm tired. School and home chores and so on-- that's enough to occupy my mind and energy lately. There's so much I want to get done, but it would require some help, so I will likely try, metaphorical hat in hand, to see if there's any chance of Meg helping me do some of the things. She's got her own list of stuff to contend with, so I hate to ask. But tomorrow, when G is home, the weather is supposed to be just awful-- mid-50s and pouring rain. Not a good day to do anything much except bake and grade papers, and yell at football (of course). 

It always makes me sad to see the garden go. I had such plans. I had such hopes. But I didn't get things done that I wanted to, things did not come to fruition (literally), and I have to accept what is, versus what I was sort of planning for. That said, the tomatoes are winding down-- do I pluck the green ones and put them in paper bags? Probably. The "volunteer" plants that appeared in the strawberry bed are lovely, full of blossoms, but they have no hope now. Not when it was 33 degrees this morning. The frosty mornings are no longer just a mild chill. 

I hate to put away sandals. I hate to have to wear layers. But then... I do love wool socks, warm sweaters, and fall colors. I'm a mystery, even to myself. 

I hope you have a lovely day. Be safe. We are all we have, it seems.

C