I got new glasses yesterday, and finally this morning I am beginning to figure out how to focus again. It's funny how long eyes take to get used to something they really want.

The forecast calls for rain, and I hope that also means mushrooms. So far this fall, I have found a few honey mushrooms and cadillacs, despite the annoying deer who keeps decimating the patches overnight. But "few" is the key word; there has been no wonderful overflow. Last weekend, on Sears Island, we found our first ever hen-of-the-woods, but I don't expect to find any more of those. They only grow on oaks, which I don't have, and prefer a more temperate climate than my woods can offer them.

I'm trying to think hopefully about the mushrooms I'll be able to find on walks in southern Maine, but it does make me so sad to forsake the forage secrets of my northern forest.

Later today I'll be driving to Portland to meet the boy, who is coming home for fall break. We are very much looking forward to sitting on the couch and watching a Cubs game together. When I asked him what food he'd like me to make, he had a one-word answer: "Vegetables!" This is classic Paul. When he went to canoe camp in middle school, he used to get into the car after a wilderness trip screeching, "Fruit! Fruit! I need fruit!" Once he ate an entire watermelon on the ride home.

I will definitely remember to load up the car with the fresh Macoun apples I bought yesterday. Maybe I should also bring a few pounds of carrots.