For everyone who has lived a few years in a row, the seasonal changes come as less of a surprize. Hard to believe, once one really knows, that in reality, if one doesn’t know what’s coming, the changes may be a real surprise. Despite the standardization of spelling two centuries ago there remain some words which can be spelled in more than one way. Most of the differences have been organized by nation, with England taking one version and the Americans using the other. I cannot speak for the Australians or Canadians because I really don’t know about their cultures very much.
Right now, the reason for all kinds of frantic canning, and pickling and all kinds of behavior designed to save some of the over abundance of harvest season for other times of the year comes to mind. Locally, and without being one of the farmers – I don’t even have a little garden going, this year I have had: fresh strawberries, fresh fig-like or prune-like fruit, and apples…so far. There is more going on than that, but there you go.
It is weird that in February it can hard to even find anything edible around here and right now free fresh food is literally falling off the trees on so many levels…but either charming or just factual or disgusting that all the free fruit is reproductive material from the trees. …Living off of horny fruit trees seems bizarre at best.
Ehh, a couple of days after saying yes to a real book contract, and getting a rejection on a bid for a paying serialized version of a long story …like so many of the other authors, I am considering how to deal with reality now. Meanwhile, not wanting to waste my life, I have been out there today and some chickens and a cow noticed me noticing them noticing me. I’m not sure what to think: I mean that would be enough for most people under 5 years old – just the event with the chickens, you know? …Throw in a few toy blocks or something and its like wow, big day, or something.