Autumn is slipping in. Last night, as twilight began to settle over the neighborhood,  I closed the downstairs windows before dark. The cat snuggled down into his blanket. And the kitchen filled with the scent of minestrone and the sound of late-season baseball.

Here's the salad I made: arugula, sliced black grapes, marigold petals, and mint, tossed with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, and black pepper.

And here's the minestrone: a friend's fresh leek; my own green pepper, hot pepper, carrots, green beans, and tomatoes; a potato, a handful of macaroni, some diced chicken, and homemade broth; salt, pepper, and parmesan; before serving, garden basil scissored on top.

Today, things will be changing in the garden. It's time to tear out the tomato plants. The leaves are showing signs of fungus, which I don't want to spread to the fruit. So into the compost bins go the vines, and a bushel of green tomatoes will ripen in house. The summer's drought significantly delayed all of the high-summer vegetables; I got far fewer eggplants and peppers than I did last year, and tomatoes have ripened very slowly. Garlic and shallots were also small. Even so, I've managed to get some sauce and vegetables into the freezer and the cellar. And the kale crop has been stellar. We'll be eating it all winter.

Tom has to work today (blah). So maybe, while Paul's sleeping and I'm alone downstairs, I'll manage to do a little writing before I start ripping out tomato plants. And I do need to start some prep work for my upcoming Carruth-Kenyon workshops. I'm told there are just 3 spaces available in the November session. Let me know if you're interested in joining us. The cost is only $150.