As our growing season comes to an end, we see the last of the harvest in all its glory. Apple trees, their branches bending with the weight of their fruit. Fields full of those huge round bales of hay... all lined up, and wrapped up.
Is there anything that says fall better than pumpkins? There are the carved pumpkins for Hallowe’en, the ever popular Jack ‘O Lantern. And then there is an abundance of pumpkin flavoured offerings like the Tim Horton’s Pumpkin Spice Latte.
I admit I am a traditionalist. I like my pumpkin in a pie, maybe a muffin, but not in my tea or coffee, or any other very inventive concoctions.
Just pie, plain or fancied up with some whipped cream. And isn’t it nice that the weekend is our Thanksgiving. I see a slice of pie in my future.
Carol
Harvest time. Boy, does that bring back the memories.
This is a farming community, or at least it used to be. When I was in high school and the teacher would start taking attendance in September, a good third of the class would be missing – “Brian’s out working tobacco” or “Sarah is picking apples.”
Apples, corn, and tobacco, the big three. People are more health conscious these days, so you don’t hear much about the tobacco crops, but we still have an abundance of corn and apples. Friday nights you’re bound to run into swarms of the migrant workers, imported from Jamaica or Mexico, as they cash in their well earned pay cheques and load up supplies for another week.
While it would have been great to take a picture of one of the bountiful harvests that are still just a few miles beyond the town limits, it’s been a pretty rainy week – not exactly the best weather for road trips or pictures. So instead I offer a picture of my own meagre harvest. My neighbour with the big garden has a rule – what grows through the fence is mine. I’m thinking it’s almost time to harvest my crop.
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