Suddenly, it's fall.  Maybe the official calendar doesn't think so, but everything around me seems to indicate that in practical terms, fall is here.  We saw it in the first changing leaves of the trees while driving out to Quebec's Eastern Townships to drop off Environmental Son at Environmental School last week. I felt it in the air this morning as I moved the vehicle out of the driveway in anticipation of today's onslaught of construction workers. Summer vacation is over and school starts anew.  And when I checked on my favourite bloggers this morning, after a week's hiatus, there they were.  The fall crops being canned, pickled, and preserved in anticipation of the coming winter dearth of fresh produce.
But this fall is different.This is the first fall in many years that I'm not up to my elbows in blueberries and tomatoes. Box after box of blueberries would be frozen on trays, then bagged. Each year we would up the ante and bring home greater volumes of plum tomatoes for canning and salsa making. 20 lbs. 50 lbs. 100 lbs... This year there will be none. There is no deep freeze, there is no stove top, no dishwasher.
Last year, after my annual tomato and salsa canning project was complete, Baker Son peeked in the compost bin and declared it looked like we'd murdered something, then tried to compost the evidence. Last month, as I set to clearing out the deep freeze before putting it in the storage unit, I made a shocking discovery. Though I had an inkling there was a bit of a backlog of frozen bananas awaiting me there, I was not prepared for numbers I found.  My advice to all potential renovators, or actually to all deep freeze owners, is to check regularly that there isn't a "Brown Banana Breeding Program" going on in your freezer... it's the only explanation I can think of. Surely, I couldn't have put that many bananas in there myself. Surely.
I made several batches of banana bread and muffins before giving up. I just couldn't face them anymore.  They went in the compost bin. Copious amounts of brown bananas were piled into the bin. I'll let your imagination tell you what it looks like we're hiding in there this year.