Make a Harvest of Memories

Although I'm a self-proclaimed "spring" person, I have a deep appreciation for all four of the beautiful seasons we experience here in Wisconsin. Each season has its own distinctive characteristics. Autumn in Wisconsin is a treat to all of the senses, from the palette of fall colors splashing the countryside to the taste of crisp apples and acorn squash to the scent of dry leaves as they swish and crackle underfoot. 

As a little girl, I collected brightly colored maple leaves each fall, placing them between sheets of wax paper and then nesting them between the voluminous pages of Sears Roebuck, J.C. Penney and Montgomery Ward catalogs to flatten and preserve the leaves before they became brittle and curled. 

We lived in the country, so a Sunday drive to take in the fall color was never necessary. All we had to do was look out of our living room or kitchen windows to see breathtaking views of autumn's finery. I got to see that beauty every weekday on the school bus as we rode through valleys and up hills, picking up and dropping off child after child to and from school.

Recess time at our quaint, old elementary school was meant for building forts, homes and castles out of fallen leaves, letting our imaginations soar with the possibilities that piles of leaves could create. 

Fall was the time to walk up the hill behind our dear neighbor, Elsie's, big farm house and pick low-hanging pears off of the trees heavy with fruit. I recall indulging in too many of our pickings one year and getting a belly ache for my efforts. 

And speaking of fruit of the season, it wouldn't be autumn in our neighborhood when I was growing up without several trips to Ski Hi Fruit Farm up the road from where we lived. The orchard is located high on a hill overlooking the Baraboo Bluffs. The owners of the orchard, Art and Olga Bassett and their children, Betty and Phil, were wonderful neighbors and dear friends. The apples they grew were always a treat -- and they still are today. My mom favored Macouns, so our home always had an ample supply of them. When I eat a Macoun apple from Ski Hi these days, I'm immediately transported back in time to when I wore knee socks and dresses to school and my mom and I would make a treat of sliced Macoun apples and popcorn every Sunday night for dinner when my dad was away for his work.

As a child, going trick-or-treating on Halloween was a safe endeavor. We'd drive into town with our neighbors, stopping at the homes of several of their family members and our friends, for the annual adventure. I didn't need to receive lots of candy, only enough to consider it a treat. My Halloween costumes varied from homemade versions of cheerleader uniforms to store-bought versions of Cleopatra. 

October also meant carving pumpkins -- nothing fancy, just triangular eyes and nose and a toothy grin. Jack-o-lanterns with a candle stuck inside of them always created a happy pumpkin-face glow.

Now that October is here, I dedicate a little time to recalling fond memories of Octobers past. I also relish all that October in Wisconsin has to offer today. Autumn is at its peak. So spend some time outdoors savoring the season and this month of harvest and riotous color. Enjoy the many simple pleasures that October has to offer: Swish through dry leaves. Tuck a few of them between the pages of a book to save for later enjoyment. Visit an apple orchard. Try your hand at carving a pumpkin. Delight young trick-or-treaters by wearing a costume when you hand out Halloween candy. 

October is a celebration for children and for the child in each of us whose youth is in the rear-view mirror. Indulge and enjoy! Make a harvest of memories during this glorious, glorious month.

Feeling Mellow by the Yellow

When I think of August, I think of the color yellow and I start to feel a tad mellow and even melancholy. Summer is waning. 

In May, June and July, the landscape is a vivid shade of green. Once the calendar turns to August, however, and we move through the month, that same landscape begins to turn a yellowish-green, as if it's tiring out and is tossing us some hints that autumn is coming and we'd better get ready.

August's hallmark feverish heat and brilliant sunshine are often accompanied by a dreamy haze of humid weather, including early morning fog and early evening mist. We hurry to get in some more lazy afternoons in the hammock reading a book. Or perhaps we pack up the kids and head to the water with a beach umbrella and a heavy picnic basket. 

The small garden patch's late summer produce is at its most abundant, including enough zucchini, tomatoes and cucumbers to feed an entire neighborhood. Among my favorite late summer yellow food is corn on the cob nestled in its brown-tasseled husk. In our household, we make a dinner of it, usually with juicy, thick slices of tomato. By month's end, pears and early apples are available at orchards and farmer's markets.

The flowers boast their yellow color, as well: Sunflowers with their big, cheery faces, black-eyed susans in rich abundance, goldenrod peeking through the tall grasses, sunshiny gladioli and more. 

The weeds seem to relax a bit in August - a gift to any gardener. 

The sunrises and sunsets are yellow and other sherbet colors splashing across the horizon. The sun pokes its head up in the morning a little later than a month ago and it decides to go to bed for the night earlier, too. As the sun sets, we open the windows to escape from the air conditioning and invite the cool breeze and the night sounds in. The sky somehow appears thicker with stars. August is an ideal month of star gazing.

The cicadas sing to us during the day and the crickets take over in the cloak of darkness. The butterflies dance around us.

School will start soon and summer will end, all the more reason to relish every single one of the precious days of August while we can.

How do you plan to enjoy these magnificent August days and evenings?

Produce Woes

I stare into the open refrigerator and what looks back at me looks somewhat sad.  After months and months of enjoying mounds of fresh produce grown locally and purchased at our farmer's market, the market is now closed for the season.  On the last Saturday of the market a couple of weeks ago, I stocked up on everything I could gather into my cloth shopping bags and stuffed them into the refrigerator.  Over the past couple of weeks, we've gone through the broccoli, the Brussels sprouts, green beans, the zucchini, tomatoes, green bell peppers and most of the cabbage.  A few sweet potatoes, onions, garlic cloves, carrots, blue potatoes and acorn squash remain, but their supply is running low.  If only I had frozen some of the produce or learned how to preserve it through canning. I'll have to head out to Ski-Hi Fruit Farm to stock up on more squash and onions.   I just can't let go of the blessing of nature's bounty that comes with the growing season, but soon, I'll have to give in to frozen, canned versions until the next growing season comes around.

Cukes and Zukes

Our friend Bill is a generous soul with a kind heart.  He is always looking to do good for the sake of others.  Recently, while visiting with him and his wife, he asked if we needed any cucumbers or zucchini.  He had been picking and picking and picking from the large vegetable and flower gardens that he and his wife Shirley so carefully tend and he had more bounty than he needed.  Not one to turn down a delicious offer of locally grown produce, I happily accepted his generous gift.  Since then, Larry and I have feasted on those tasty cukes and zukes from Bill, grateful to have such a kind friend who recognized an eager veggie lover when he saw one.

Pickin' and Grinnin'

Farm stands brimming with sun-ripened produce.  Summer squash giving way to winter varieties.  Despite difficulties caused by extreme weather, this year's harvest has been very satisfying.  A slow start eventually yielded an abundance of tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, beans and potatoes.  Farmer's market vendors talk about this having been a big year for cabbage and broccoli.  And the peppers have been as big as a large man's fist.  One friend who is an avid gardener has had an extraordinary supply of eggplant.  Larry and I have enjoyed every bite of our locally grown produce.  Many thanks to all who have done the pickin', for these grateful veggie eaters are grinnin'.