Dear Friends and Family,

The bloom is off the rose. At the beginning of the season I was eager for the 5 am wake-up for harvest on Fridays and for market on Saturdays. For the past few weeks I have actually put the alarm on snooze, sometimes more than once, and even then could barely drag myself out of bed. On Fridays I gulp down my morning tea, pull on my boots, and clomp out to the flowerbeds. I try to finish before the heat gets so oppressive the flowers actually wilt in their 5 gallon buckets. For a week or so I also had a thumb swollen and sore from a bee that took offense when I put my hand into the bucket where he happened to be feeding. The bees and the yellowjackets really love the Mexican sunflowers, which are now about 7 feet tall. Avoiding them can be quite tricky. Meanwhile a whole array of vines, thorns, stickers, and other monster weeds stand ready to scrape the careless arm or leg or, even worse, bend the newly cut stem of a flower. By 9 am I am back inside ready to peel off my soaking wet clothes and douse myself with cold water. Fortunately I do have a room air-conditioner that keeps my living room, study, and bedroom pretty cool. The kitchen, actually an addition to the house, stays pretty warm, even with both doors open and fans blowing. There are compensations: the tomatoes have got bigger and tastier as the season has gone on--my current gourmet sandwich treat is a thick slice of Cherokee Purple with a couple of slices of provolone. The crop is so abundant that Robin, thus far, has canned over 100 quarts of tomatoes, such a treat in sauce or soup in winter. We think of them as "canned sunshine". We've had wonderful sweet corn and, a first for our farm, watermelons. Earlier in the season some neighbors, also vendors at St. Andrew's market, had delicious blueberries. Sweet, sweet peaches are coming in right now, as well as the first apples of the season. Such good neighbors.

On Saturdays, I usually need to finish the harvesting I didn't get to on Friday, so I really have to keep moving in order to get off by 7am to get to market. A couple of weeks ago the tree that's been my major shelter there had to be trimmed, so now by 10 am the heat is on. The morning can seem very long, especially if it seems no one is buying from me. For a couple of weeks I was the only one with flowers. Now another vendor also brings flowers, so I have re-discovered my competitive drive. Paul has been giving me lectures on the benefits of competition (which sound great as we sit with a glass of wine at my kitchen table ) . However in the heat of the day as a customer goes from admiring my flowers to buying from the "other" vender-- I can find myself with some pretty unbeneficial thoughts.

Phoebe and Rob came with me for two Saturdays. That was so much fun. Phoebe made wonderful flower arrangements. Rob kept our coffee mugs full. Everyone came over to meet them. I was very proud to show off my Boston family. When we got home they accused me of driving too fast on these "narrow, winding roads". (What a change from the old days when all I ever heard from the back seat was how slow we were going).

I managed to get to Woods Hole to be with Mary Anne for what turned out to be the hottest week of their summer. Even so we celebrated my 65th birthday with serial dinners out: with Alice, then Christine and her beau, then Phoebe and Rob, and even just Mary Anne and I. I think we tried every restaurant in town. That's a lot of very good seafood- the striped bass was particularly delightful. One evening Mary Anne and I were out on the deck of the Captain Kidd. Our waitress came out to warn that a severe thunderstorm was approaching. I thought -what a way to go- sitting here with a glass of wine and a plate of striper. Needless to say as soon as the lightning started we retreated to an inside table.

Thunderstorms here at home sometimes offer a welcome, if brief, respite from the heat as well as much needed rain. During the month of July it was very dry as well as hot. When the thunderstorms finally brought rain the plants literally seemed to jump up a foot or so. Paul plants his crops serially, so as one crop is fading, another is coming on. He has learned to count on the seasonal rains to give each new planting a jump start. July '05 was so hot and dry that the newly planted seeds failed to germinate. This year it is a relief to have that much needed rain.

I just finished a couple of applecakes for the school group that arrives this noon. Tonight I will bake some chocolate chip oatmeal bars for tomorrow's meal. What fun to have these students visit the farm at different times in a season. They get to admire fruiting plants they put in the ground as seeds, and see the lap-joined boards they made when the were last here now holding up the great tin roof of a barn shed.

My best to each of you as we make this transition from summer to fall.

Love, Louise