Football Weather Comes Early

When the sultry, humid summer gives way to cooler temperatures, April calls it football weather. I have been waiting for this magical time since the mercury first touched 90 degrees back in March. Sometimes it has seemed a bit like Linus from "Peanuts" waiting for the Great Pumpkin, but I kept the faith just like good ol Linus. This morning we awoke from beneath the covers, threw back the curtains and a wave of crisp, almost autumnal air burst into our bedroom. I was so surprised that I had to wade outside into the coolness to check our ladybug thermometer before I would believe that we had 60 degree temperatures. My second thought was for the baby chicks out in the chicken coop who are supposed to have a heat lamp if the night air gets that cool, but upon inspection they had all huddled together and were doing just fine. The return of football weather was the cherry on top of a pretty spectacular weekend for us.

linville falls

Our best friend Chris had flown in from California last Wednesday to see our place and check out the area. We had hoped that by showing him some of the local highlights like Boone, the Blue Ridge Parkway & Brown Mountain Lights and also keeping him out of local Walmarts; we might be able to put enough lipstick on this pig to convince him to move out here. We shot guns in the backyard, hiked up steep ridges onto the Highbriten land, BBQ'd on the back porch and swung from our treacherously roped tree swings. We fed him every variety of local sandwich with coleslaw and chili on it from Hannah's pulled pork to a burger all-the-way at Boone Drug; he drank his first Cheerwine and some of April's ma's sweet tea and we even made it over to Hickory for a taste of some fine Tap Room micro-brews. Clyde took a real shine to Chris and spent the whole weekend following him around so he could lick his calf or hand incessantly enjoying the sweet, sweet flavor of Californian (or whatever it is Chris tastes like). I was debating the idea of holding him hostage in our back cabin but knew he had to get back to his family and appraisal business so the ride to the airport was bittersweet. We were all sad to say goodbye but it didn't really sink in until this morning when Clyde did laps through the house searching for his tasty amigo.

"What happened to my Chris?"

It was nearly a year ago that April and I said goodbye to Chris and his family at his daughter's 4th birthday party in Palo Alto. The distinct seasons here in Caldwell County really help to mark the passage of time, but even so it is tough to understand how quickly this year has flown by. From the first hikes we did and looking for our first home last fall, the snow, sledding and coziness of a wood stove fire in the winter, seeing the first blossoms on the trees, baby chicks and planting our first seeds this spring. And the relentless simmering heat and humidity of this long summer, even that seems to be coming to a close. We haven't stopped missing our friends in California, sometimes we even miss California. I still struggle to quiet some of the voices in my head and wonder if I have what it takes to be a real farmer. I wonder what some of the people in my old office are up to when I gather eggs in the morning. I wonder what the special might be down at Freddy's Deli on Ocean Beach especially on Saturday afternoons when April, Otto and I used to walk down there from our apartment. I wonder if anyone will buy our jams this weekend at the farmers market and whether I will have enough eggs and sourdough bread ready to sell. We did get our first double yolker egg this last weekend which was pretty exciting.

double yolkers are eggscellent!

We fed it to our guest along with some bacon and sourdough toast with blackberry jam so that he could say he ate like a good ol boy while he was down here in Caldwell County. Even if we did take him to the Waffle House for his first meal here...

since 7th grade