Another ridiculously beautiful November day.
I chewed on a chilly
almost ripe tomato off the vine today, nibbled on the last leathery purple bean, and ate the last few leaves off dying basil plants.
We're doing OK. The Brussels sprouts have no idea that plants usually swoon in November, the kale are showing off their royal purple cloaks, and Leslie has put enough food by to get through the winter.
Last night we had our last batch of fresh pesto for the season, complemented with the first batch of Brussels sprouts. No striped bass, not yet, maybe later this month.
We saw a monarch floop lazily by as we walked near the ferry jetty. Most of the monarchs are south now, and it is unlikely that this one will make it.
I think this distressed us more than the flutterby. Flooping has a price, but on a day like today, not sure the price is too steep.
I'm getting to like November, the cranky bees, the elegant dying plants.
I'll have time for sleep soon enough.
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