There are plants all over the house and there are plants on the front porch pulled to the wall and covered with flannel.
Mr. Moon brought the dolly to the house to move the really big plants from the outside to the in and he lifted and he hefted and he toted and he did it. Some of those pots weight at least a hundred pounds. I stood by and worried and directed and pointed and guided and felt generally useless.
Here's the Roseland mango, moved in to its place of prominence in the laundry room.
Here's part of the mudroom's plants.
Begonias, begonias, begonias. Remember before Owen was born and I had that obsession with begonias?
We are still suffering from that.
And Owen will be here tomorrow and he will damn well notice all of the plants in the house. I just hope he doesn't want to eat them all but if he does, I'll be right here to deter him.
The last pot of the not-winter vegetables are cooking on the stove, filling the house with the smell of curry. I added the last of the turkey, too, and will serve it on brown rice.
Green tomatoes, eggplant, green beans and jalapeno's. Also mushrooms, spinach, ripe tomatoes and a nice orange pepper.
So. Come on winter. We're ready. Bite us and we shall smile. Or at least, not weep.