It’s November and I am still picking tomatoes and planting bulbs. The azaleas and rhododendron are putting out occasional blooms.
Our woodpile is growing as we have had shorter periods during recent winters that are cold enough to justify cozying up to a fire in the fireplace. The old unused wood at the bottom of the pile is rotting.
You can tell which neighbor is hosting the family for Thanksgiving by looking to see who is cutting their grass and cleaning up the yard.
Either my memory is faulty or global warming has come to Central Jersey. I prefer to go with global warming.
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“What is the late November doing
With the disturbance of the spring.”
-T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)
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