Happy Halloween!

I was the only one to carve a pumpkin this year. Jane came up for a visit last Saturday, but she worked so hard cutting up apples to be juiced (we made 6 quarts worth), that her hands were too tired to carve. I sure was glad to have the help with the apples. Thanks, Jane! Terry had been working hard on the new patio (I should get a picture of that, hey?) and didn’t have the hand strength to carve a pumpkin either. He cleaned the seeds from my pumpkin for roasting.

My Jack-O-Lantern 

Sunday morning was taken up with making jam from the black raspberries Hilda and I picked last summer. I got them out to thaw on Friday, when it seemed like I would have all sorts of time over the weekend. Well, we all know how that goes. Anyway, I got to it Sunday morning. Making jam is a big, sticky mess. One forgets when one doesn’t do it often. And here’s another random thought that occurred to me: We always have the idea that the pioneers made jams and other preserves. Where did they get that much sugar? Is that whole jam-making thing a myth? Where is a food anthropologist when you need one?

Black raspberry jam

Pat and Nancy came up to help clean out the garden on Sunday afternoon. Pat really enjoyed picking bean vines off the fence. It’s an interminable job to do by yourself. Pat liked it because there were other people to talk to, and it’s always more fun to do someone else’s work.

Pat, Nancy, and Hilda strip dead bean vines off the fences

When we were done with the south garden, we had just enough time to dig the potatoes before sunset. We sure were glad to have the help. Thanks, Pat and Nancy!

Pat helps me dig taters

Potato harvest. Wounded potatoes are in the box on the top.