It was a dreary rainy day with matted leaves and partially naked trees getting ready for a hibernation of sorts. Misty clouds and fog obscured the mountains around us, half hiding, as if they were playing a game of hide and seek. Many of the vegtables are in their final throws as the season changes and tells them to to relinquish their bounty. What to do?

The photographer in me wants to post a picture, however, imagination is a powerful tool that pulls out smells and sights from years of stored up experiences, so I post none today.

I picked the leeks this morning from what started as puny little sprouts now with massive dark green leaves and stocky snow white roots. I picked three for the potato leek soup we had been holding of on making until today. The recipe called for basil, chives and parsley, all picked from the same plot. A pot cooked this afternoon a released it deliciousness for the evening meal. We baked a meatloaf with carrots, and some of the onions so we would have it for the week. All of this of course baked within reach of the woodstove that we kept going throughout the day. Stir fried chard to boot. A wonderful way to enter a kitchen, especially when someone as lovely as Kathy is there to greet.


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