rage, rage, against the dying of the light

Fall is definitely on its way. When I headed out this morning, it was in the mid-40’s: tights and long-sleeve shirt weather. An hour in, things had warmed up to the point where I sorta wished I had shorts and a T-shirt on, but I persevered. Final result: 10.6 miles in 1:51 – that’s a 10:25 pace (including the Galloway walking breaks). So I’m getting faster. I’ll give the cooler weather credit for part of that. The rest of the credit goes to my efforts to speed up on the week’s shorter runs – I’ve nailed sub-nine minute miles, but I don’t know how long I’m good for that pace yet.

One of my favorite spots along this morning’s route. The foliage this year is so-so. Of course, we’re looking at a largely-coniferous hillside, but still.

Kevin disassembled the screened-in porch.

He put the deck furniture away for the winter, and later on, we moved the grill into the garage. The gods wanted something to break today – their first attempted victim was my foot (I managed to drop the grill on myself). All that’s left to move are the remains of the season’s failed gardening experiments. As well as the more successful experiments:

This is the smallest of the incoming tomatoes, which we moved inside for the night as I believe it’s going to be awfully cold tonight.

Speaking of tomatoes, I visited my friend Greenough today…

…these are her tomatoes. I couldn’t resist including this picture, as it indulges my rainbow fetish.

 

Some of her chickens.

A chickadee having a go at a sunflower.

chickadee-dee-dee!

What else, what else – the visit netted some good shots.

If this doesn’t put you in the mood to eat your veggies, nothing will.

Greenough’s growing these wonderful little things called ground cherries.

The cherries are inside the little lanterns.

She harvested a basket load.

 

Perfect! I’ve been meaning to investigate the phenomenon of decay – here are ripe fruits inside nearly totally decayed husks.

Looks a lot like a tiny cherry tomato, but it’s sweeter.

I could fill the page with marigold porn, but I’ll try to limit myself to just a few.

Oh yeah, baby…

Mmmmm…

Get a grip, Sarah, change the subject.

 

I participated in the great cycle of death and life – we weeded these buggers out of the cabbages. As I tossed them in the feed dish, I consoled them by telling them that they were about to metamorphose into chickens.

The light was waning, and we each had other things to do, such as prepare supper and whatnot. So we bid one another adieu, and I scurried home to Best Beloved. The gods succeeded in their nefarious plans, as I broke a plate when washing up after dinner. Grrrr. Pesky gods.