Summer's End

I can feel it in the early morning...it is a crispness. We have had a bumper crop of cucumbers, and lots of tomatoes. Many are still green.

I remember years ago my father was doing carpentry work for Peterson's Chicken farm. One day he brought home a load of chicken manure. Holy amonia it smelled. We all worked to spread it over the garden, and I was more than glad when it was covered with snow a few months later. The next year we had the most amazing garden. The Missoulian newspaper came to take pictures of it, and my sister, Eloise, had a grand champion Hubbard squash at Lake County Jr Fair. I remember piles of pumkins sitting out by the road in the hopes that folks would stop and take a trunk load full.

Fall, for us, was always marked by pheasant hunting. Our community hosted what seemed like at least dozens of pheasant hunters. We had a regular group of hunters that came from Missoula every year. Me, and my siblings, must have driven them crazy with all of our visiting in their camp. That is what happens when you don't get out much. It was that year that the PTA, or some other civic group, built a little building by the school from which we could serve lunch to the hunters and bring in revenue. I ate my weight in pie and chili that day... Also, as I was waiting on the cars and delivering orders I received a very strange order. One of the pheasant hunters wanted a piece of "apple pie alamo." I had never heard of such a thing and the kitchen workers were all busy bustling around; I didn't see anyone I could ask. They provided me with a piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream beside it; still it didn't look right. So I concluded...Alamo...the Alamo was a mess so I stirred the pie and ice cream up good before I delivered it. I don't recall that there were any complaints. Hmmm.

Have a wonderful fall. Best, Rusty