Ah, smell this fall of the year. (Choke. Wheeze. Snort.)
October is virtually done, but it’s hardly been one of those brisk experiences.
It’s been moldy and swishy at my house.
Last weekend, I acquired a 3-gallon bottle of bleach and a new spray bottle, and cranked up the garden hose for perhaps its final run of the season. After I attacked the woodwork on my porch, I headed around to the back door and kitchen window.
Buddy, the mildew on the porch was incredible. You’d have thought I chose gray woodwork.
With the holidays imminent, it seemed prudent to spiff up the entryway most likely to be used by my loved ones as they migrate to Tupelo for Thanksgiving and Christmas. My front door is visited so seldom, somebody could starve out there waiting for a response.
A good thing about fall, appropriately, is the falling leaves. Well, the fallen leaves. I’m one of those neighborhood creepers who checks out everybody’s bagged yard defoliation, then throws them into the back of the car and dashes away.
On occasion, when the home owner is standing right there, I ask if I can have them. What fodder for another column if I ever run into somebody who wants to keep theirs.
So, I’m hoping the weather will behave for the next several days to inspire my neighbors to get out there with their rakes and get those bags coming.
When I’ve collected a dozen or so, I start dumping their contents onto my empty garden squares and flower beds for soil enrichment. I think my house was built on a hill of clay gravel.
My morning walks reveal that a lot of leaves are still on the trees. The sweet gums, the maples, the dogwoods and the crape myrtles are just starting to turn their colors.
My garden still has a few tomatoes here and there, but nearly everything else has gone into slow motion. Still have plenty of basil, and the first-year asparagus is tall with feathery leaves.
My outdoor science project continues its high level of entertainment, and I’ve got green onions, parsley, dill, broccoli and cauliflower hopefully doing their thing out there.
It’s a happy survivalist feeling to know the freezer’s jammed full. I’ve got to inventory it to see what’s in there, then figure out what I’m going to do with it. That’s a chore I’m ready to tackle during a football half-time Saturday. Perhaps I’ll incorporate some of it into the Thanksgiving spread.
My trouble, now, looks like I’m going to have to impose on the few friends I have to lend me some of their freezer space.
Bet I can bargain with the gumbo and red beans I cooked last weekend.
Contact Patsy R. Brumfield at (662) 678-1596 or firstname.lastname@example.org. Read Patsy’s blog, From the Front Row, on NEMS360.com. Follow her on Twitter and Facebook, too.
Patsy R. Brumfield/NEMS Daily Journal