Oh, sweet and overwhelming September.
You my dear are the month of "more".
More of everything.
More messes more projects more planning more doing.
More moving more working more dreaming more running.
September.
Bringing more tomatoes than we dreamed of when we planted those 24 heirlooms, cherries, and pastes in the spring.
More tomatoes than a few of our homemade cages can hold. (Two of them were laying on the ground this morning, exhausted and overwhelmed by the poundage of tomatoes hanging from the vines.)
More peppers than we can roast and freeze or can or turn into homemade sriracha before the sun dips behind the hills tonight.
More full beautiful jars in the basement than we have shelves for - slowly filling the root cellar from floor to ceiling. Our winter food. Or a bit of it anyway.
More zucchini than we could ever eat, so we fill the freezer, one bag at a time. For ratatouille. Soups. Stews. Sautes. For saving just a bit of summer into the deep cold winter.
More potatoes than we thought our overgrown and weedy patch would ever provide. Enough to be a winter treat if we dig them and tuck them away now, in September.
And there are more eggs in the hen house than we know what to do with. Eggs to give away and eat at every meal. Eggs, eggs, everywhere.
Even some beneath a broody little hen.
And yes, more chickens than we ever intended. Because that broody little hen, Lupine's favorite (Sweetie Pie), hatched out a clutch of six wee chicks.
And a few more hot summer days, that beg us to drop our harvest baskets and slip down to the creek for one more swim.
And more intention.
Homeschooling. Knitting. Sewing. Foraging. Preserving. Fermenting. Farming. Planting.
With the changing season that September brings, there is more looking ahead. Dreaming. Planning. Sketching. Growing.
Tomorrow our farm will also grow. Yes, more animals! (More on that later in the week.)
But today? Today we'll face the tomatoes. And can what we're able.
Oh, September.
If only you also came with a few more hours in each of your bursting days.
