On this Labor Day, a day originally made a national holiday in an attempt to appease Labor after what has been called the bloodiest strike in history – the strike of the railroad workers against Pullman – I wandered about the yard for awhile this morning looking to see how everything fared after the frost we had towards the end of last week. Last week, when our high temperatures spent most of their time in the 60s and one night brought temperatures below 32 degrees, with frost warnings for a few other nights. On this day, our forecast says we will have a high of 81, to be followed for the rest of the week by temperatures in the 90s. The map showed our country divided, with the eastern 1/4 of the country and the western 1/4 of the country being hit with above-average heat and the middle 1/2 much colder. If nothing else, Mother Nature is certainly fickle.
In the yard, I found the tiny crabapples ripened, inviting the Robins to dinner. This tree and its brother across the driveway offer so much beauty for a good part of the year, with the unfurling of leaves in early spring, followed by beautiful white blossoms and in the fall, these pretty red berries.
I too am in fall mode – ready to hole up in the house deciding what projects I might want to start for the winter, to do some baking and soup-making. It is like my world has switched into slow-motion and I am content to follow. Yesterday I made a pot of soup, before the forecast was revised to reflect much hotter temperatures. Today I put that soup into quart jars and put them in the freezer, to be pulled out when cooler temperatures come back. Today I have baked a cake and will bake a quiche before it gets too hot to have the oven on. When the oven is off for the week, I will have dinner readily available for a few days. While the temperatures reflect the fact that it is summer, despite the fact most of us view this Labor Day and the onset of fall, I will talk to myself about getting some things done, but will not chide myself – too much – if little actually is accomplished. I am, after all, retired and entitled to be lazy. Whatever gets done, it will be enough.