Haircuts and Salsa and New Purple Clothes

The trees were planted yesterday, all excited to explode with growth come Spring.

Now when you’re camping, you sleep under the camper shell in the back of the truck instead of setting up your tent. And you invite everyone’s dogs to sleep in there with you and you don’t have a whole lot of room but it doesn’t matter…because what’s better than sleeping in a truck with a bunch of dogs to keep you warm?

The trees and the roses ask for haircuts whenever you go outside, but their leaves are not all gone yet and they’ll have to wait.

The grasses on the hill are brown and crackly, and you worry again about wildfires.

The tomatillos and hot peppers and garlic have been mashed together into the most delicious salsa, and the freezer is full of bursting Ziplocks with the hot ones just labeled ‘HOOO-WEEEE!!!’

The tomatoes are likely going to freeze again before they turn red. Just like every year. So in the morning they’re cut in slices, dunked in egg wash, covered in bread crumbs, fried in olive oil, and finally and carefully placed atop an egg and guacamole on a toasted English muffin.

The rest of the tomatoes end up again hanging upside down all over the garage until they get around to getting ripe…just like every year.

You’re still picking lavender to press in books with little ribbons marking the pages, or to dry for tea, or to make sachets for your sock drawer. You crumble it up and mix it with some witch hazel and distilled water to spray your pillow before you go to sleep. The volunteer Virginia Creeper who decided to grow on the back fence has slipped into some new purple clothes and the rosemary and thyme are drying in the kitchen, whispering with recipes.

The mint is already sealed in big glass containers with air-tight lids so you can open it in December and sprinkle it on top of your yogurt and almonds and hemp seed and apples and roll it around on your tongue and remember what summer tasted like. And then you put more on your ice cream while you’re curled up under your heated blanket on the couch.

The strawberries and blackberries are settling down – not so eager to throw their delicious morsels all over the place. The sunflower heads were removed and you popped out all the seeds the other day while you listened to bluegrass music. The seeds are roasting in the oven and the smell is all over the house and it’s unimaginable to be in a bad mood.

So the yard is put away and so is the hillside and the golden aspens trickle down the mountains, tracing the streams beneath their feet. It was a good summer of hard work with bountiful results and you’re proud.

And now it’s time to rest.