For the first time in a while, both of us were up and motivated to leave the house early in the morning. It helps that the farmers market has fixed hours, and we had a mission to go buy up as many ten dollar bags of squash and pumpkins as we could carry. The cloth bag full weighed somewhere north of thirty pounds. I didn't count, but I think we left with four pumpkins of different varieties, at least two each of acorn and butternut squash, and something striped that I couldn't identify if my life depended on it. Not even a guess. But I'm going to cook it, and I fully expect to like it. Tomorrow's menu will be my own take on a sage-apple-pumpkin soup recipe I saw floating around online. I don't remember at all where to find the recipe, but I'm sure I'll come up with something good. I'll try to remember to write about it.
Before we could take off from the farmers market, I wandered down along the open space trail to the lake near where we parked. I had been waiting and listening for that particular sound of autumn, the honking of geese as they fly overhead. I haven't heard it, and I started to wonder whether we weren't on the migratory path for Canada geese after all. And then today I saw dozens of birds in the lake, and I went to investigate what sort of waterfowl they were, to verify that autumn was still going to look and sound the same in my new home. I was having fun taking pictures, when I looked over my shoulder, and saw Mr S-P opening up dried seed pods, and tossing tufts of silk and seeds to the winds. I didn't recognize the pods, and had to be told that they were milkweed. Once I heard that, I got excited and helped him distribute the seeds, hoping that they would land where they could grow and feed generations of monarch butterflies. I only stuffed a few seeds in my pockets, mostly trying to fill the county open space with the potential for milkweed plants. But now I need to remember to come back next spring and summer, and see whether that park is a stop along the migratory highway of the monarchs. I haven't seen one in years, and I will be there, camera in hand, ready to greet them.
As one might have expected from last night's blog, tonight was a big football night for me. I did not believe, not up until the last three seconds of overtime play, that we were going to win. It was the bitter intra-state rivalry, between the University of Colorado and Colorado State University. For the last quarter century it was really easy to insulate myself from our rivals, and focus solely on goings-on in Boulder. But now I'm driving up to Fort Collins twice a week, and living in a town where half the population wears green and gold. Even my next door neighbor warned me that he's a CSU grad, and there might be friction on Rocky Mountain Showdown days. During the last three or four minutes of regulation play, while I thought CSU was about to score and break the tie, I said out loud, "It's really going to suck going to Fort Collins on Monday." But the Buffs surprised me, and managed to win by a field goal in overtime. Now I wonder whether I need to just keep my mouth shut Monday, and rather than being taunted, I'll be the recipient of flat-eyed glares for my alumni license plate cover. Not that I will take it off the car, or remove my black and gold nail polish. A girl's gotta represent.
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