October 9, 2012
The evening before the killer frost and knowing it was imminent I spent some quiet moments with my garden. The vines in particular seemed anxious. I reassured the garden that everything would be OK: it would, come the spring, live again. More recycling took place on the weekend. As recently as two years ago Thanksgiving dinner was restricted to my mother, my wife, and I. Everyone else was gone. But this year, there we were—the three incumbents—with my son and his wife, my daughter and a young man who wished to make our acquaintance, another young man whom we had housed during his transition to Calgary and his girlfriend—nine of us, in all. But it wasn't the numbers I noticed so much as it was the composition of the table—two-thirds of which was under 30 and in the majority, I think, for the first time.
The temperature a week ago Monday was 26C. The next day, it was 6C and the day after, the overnight temperature plunged to -5C.
The evening before the killer frost and knowing it was imminent I spent some quiet moments with my garden. The vines in pa...