Well, the garden is pretty much over here for the most part. Squash is all dried up, to tell you the truth, the squash was the worst season I have ever had. Really had nothing to speak of. Not ONE squash. The pumpkins died weeks ago. Have a few tomatoes left, not many. Had some early on, but it is really dwindling down. We did have a ton of peppers, I think we had every variety ever invented this year. That was thanks to my husband, John. I don't like peppers. I think they are a waste of time and take up too much room. Why on earth would you plant so many different kinds of peppers. What can you do with them? Seems to me, beyond salsa, there really isn't much else. And how much salsa can you make in one summer? I had a few zinfandel grapes, got pretty excited about that. Was going to save them to have on a nice cheese and cracker plate one night under the arbor with our wine. By the time I got to them, they had already turned to raisins. HUH?
Had a few herbs, but even that was pretty grim. All in all, the garden this year was a loser. Now that I think about it, I think I am going to go a different way next year. I am thinking...an orchard. I love fruit trees. And I am really tired of looking at dry dirt. All the time I wasted this summer watering that garden, and if I am perfectly honest with myself, it really was just a big old dry patch of...well, nothing.
Being that the garden looks so "lifeless" I put this scarecrow out. And over the years, I have taken alot of heat over this guy. First of all, he has been called "tacky". I admit it, I did get him at Michaels years ago..because he made me HAPPY. But, no, he wasn't made by me, he wasn't something out of the Martha Halloween magazine,he isn't even something decent from some fancy "decorator" shop. And he's old. Which I kinda like. Some folks ask why I just don't get a new one if I have to have a "Michaels" scarecrow. Nope, he is what he is. And that's just fine by me. He might be tired too, but he makes me happy.
the night will never stay, the night will still go by, though with a million stars you pin it to the sky; though you bind it with the blowing wind, and buckle it with the moon, the night will slip away like sorrow or a tune.