It's been a strange fall around here, what with the snow storm and then a few weeks of really warm weather, but things are starting to look genuinely seasonal around here just in time for Thanksgiving. Admittedly, on Sunday when the picture above was snapped Harvey and I were barefoot—but close enough. It's cooled down nicely now.
The special Thanksgiving farmers market in Lexington this afternoon was another nice sign of the season. We picked up some potatoes, onions, winter squashes, and beets—nowhere near enough to take us all the way through the winter, sure, but symbolic of the year's last harvest. After that I suppose it's the grocery store again. Some day we'll get the root cellar working. We also picked up a tomato, at Harvey's request. Who am I to deny the not-entirely-seasonal desires of my offspring (although I do draw the line at taking the seeds out of it for him when we eat it—where on earth did he get that idea?!).
We also started out Thanksgiving eating this evening, or Leah and I did: Harvey was asleep, worn out from the market, and Zion's dinner was limited to mashed bananas, neither Thanksgiving-related nor particularly seasonal. We have nearly a week of Thanksgiving feasting planned, which is very much in the spirit of 1621 and also in the spirit of my instinctive desire to fatten up for the cold weather. Yet another important sign of fall.