The turkey is in the oven and the table needs to be set. My sister and I are going to make some little arrangements with the last of the persian carpet zinnias and the deep red nasturtiums, cutting with reckless abandon since first frost can't be far off. My hands smell like onions and sage. I have slippers on. It's happening.
I had hoped to take some pretty photos at home of the progress, but I forgot my camera's battery charger back in the city. Without it, this weekend is going to be an exercise in appreciating moments as they happen. Moments filled with thanks and gratitude. And pie.
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