It’s a quiet, cool, rainy sort of morning.  Perfect for soup, or knitting, or baking; and I just might attempt all three.  Waking up at what felt like the crack of dawn this morning (but it wasn’t, not even close, but late late nights will do that to you) and then seeing the vast expanse of grey in the sky, well, I had to make a run to the garden.  Not sure what I would find there (one less cabbage the last time) but off I went. 

Everytime I drive up to the garden, my first thought is that I should have brought the camera, so I could at least have a record of how the garden is growing, but this morning would have gotten a snap of Peter Cottontail as well, enjoying his breakfast and lacking the decency to at least stop chewing when he saw me. 

The beans are coming, but oh so late, and sparse.  So many blossoms on the plants, but it’s as if they forget what comes next.  The tomatoes slowly ripening, and there are tassels on the corn.  We picked four honeydew melons last week (after the missing cabbage incident) but I have no idea when they will ripen, or indeed if they are actually honeydew melon.  The skin looks more like cantaloupe, and while the inside is mostly green, closest to the seeds is the peachy colour of a cantaloupe.  Can you tell I’m regretting cutting open the largest of the four? 

Ok, ok, ok, must start the day now, or at least the soup.  Must, because before I know it, it’ll be time to go a-viking (or at least, performing at our Scandinavian pavilion all evening!)

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