On a Friday in August: Camping, Gardening,

 

Last weekend we went camping for a couple of nights with our three children and their families. Thirteen of us in all, two families in trailers (caravans) and two in tents, in a fresh-smelling forest not far from the beach. It was cool in the woods and warm on the shore, just as it should be. 

It's become a tradition that this Nana makes doughnuts for breakfast one morning while camping. Sausages and fruit go along with the sweet stuff. I make the yeast dough, roll, and cut. The guys do the frying, and the grands plus my daughter-in-law do the glazing and decorating. It's a jolly affair. 

The first night of camping went well; everyone slept and the weather was perfect. The next day at the beach was a lot of fun, but then someone looked at the weather forecast. Yikes! We rarely see thunderstorms, but one was headed our way that evening. So after dinner, the family with the two little girls packed up and went home. The rest of us battened down the hatches. Lightning zigzagged across the sky followed by immense echoing thunderclaps. Wind howled in the tree tops although it was fairly calm on the ground. Pinecones and small branches hit the roof of the trailer and we didn't sleep until 2 am when it was all over. All was well. Fun times! 

Gardens have been so very slow this year. I harvested basil and made pesto to store in the freezer to use when the cold seeps in and we need a hint of summer. 

I go blackberry picking. How fragrant the dark berries are, and how sticky. I've learned to pick berries with just one hand, holding the pail in the other. There are inevitable thorns, but the sweetness of blackberry syrup and blackberry-plum jam make the memory of thorn pricks fade. The sight of jewel-like jars lined up on shelves in the cool basement evokes feelings of satisfaction in having prepared for the winter. Gladys Taber says "I believe it is an instinct in man to store things against the winter, even when there is a supermarket a few blocks or miles away. It is part of the rhythm of life." I am glad that we do not have to rely entirely upon the produce of our garden or on what we've preserved for we would soon be thin as wraiths. 

I went out late one afternoon and saw six or so bees busy in the borage and oregano flowers. How quickly they flew from one flower to another. Perhaps they sense the waning of summer, too. 

Yellow and gold do not feature much in my garden, but in late summer the Rudbeckia suits the light and I enjoy the glow of the small patch I allow. 

Dahlias faithfully produce bloom after bloom. I deadhead regularly and cut bouquets of them for the house. I do love their symmetry and variety of colour and form. 

Something was eating my tomatoes. I purchased a quantity of organza bags and dressed dozens of tomatoes carefully, making sure there was plenty of room to grow. The bushes look odd, but I've not lost a tomato to the critters since. As an added bonus, I think the material prevents rain from splitting the fruit. Green beans are prolific; zucchini is a bust. There are several fat pumpkins just barely turning orange that will make delicious soups in another month or two. 

August teeters between summer and autumn. This year the weight seems to be leaning to an early autumn. Our nights are decidedly cool. September could turn it all around again. Weather is endlessly varied, don't you find? Meanwhile, we will enjoy the days as they come, like "pearls slipping off a string" as L. M. Montgomery once wrote. 

Wishing you all a lovely weekend.