The calendar says it is still summer for a day or two more, but you can't fool me. It's fall. It's been colder at night and the sun slants more and more. The blankets are finding their way back onto the bed. One night last week I made a hearty, hot soup for supper. Is there better proof than that that summer is over? I have started a long, slow process of putting the gardens to bed--more work, really, than getting the garden started. Gardening angels were with me yesterday because I went out and plucked the lavender flowers, just in time. Last night there was a frost. That doesn't really hurry up the bedtime rituals although it does leave certain plants looking a bit worse for wear. I like to take my time and spread the job out over a few months' time. I can pull up the cucumber plants and I can't say I'll miss them for a while (Mike and I were getting tired of cucumbers at every meal, even breakfast, anyway) but it's always good to have lavender.