Life Dispatch, Vol. 3

We are thick in the heart of Fall. Here it’s the Final Days. The decent weather is coming to an end. Daylight savings is next week. It’s time. Time to take down the summer garden after picking the last handfuls of tomatoes. Plant garlic. Chop back the asparagus patch. Acknowledge there are flower beds in need of care before the Dark Days arrive any moment now.

So much to do.

This whole business about gardening being a summer project is a big myth. It just never ends. I am not even going to pretend I might get to it all.

Instead I am going to carve our home-grown jack-o-lanterns, roast pumpkin seeds, pick our persimmons, take note of the changing leaves, and call it good.

Or at least something like that.
Last year I dried the persimmons. We have so many. Too many for baking. But the dried persimmons weren’t a big hit. I think the chickens were treated to half of them.

I have a new strategy this year:  cocktails.

Persimmon mojitos. Persimmon margaritas. Persimmon moscow mules. Persimmon sangria.

I can’t wait.

Thank you to everyone and your kind words last week. My latest pattern release was such positive experience. Truly, as a whole, knitters are such lovely people. I believe I have remarked before in this space that we knitters should band together, pick a pretty spot somewhere on this vast planet (I vote for somewhere warm and tropical), and start our own nation of knitters.

I already know just how our flag might look–a ball of yarn crisscrossed with knitting needles. And it would be knitted. Of course. Waving in the wind on a bamboo pole, flitted with light through the shade of a palm frond.

I can see it now.

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