Fall has come early to Palas. Storms roll in one after the other. This week we have the sun back, but last week was fireplace weather, wellies and fisherman’s sweaters. You can smell the air has changed. It makes me want to go to a pumpkin patch or a Fall farmers market.
We are stocked with wood. Except our fireplace is getting ripped out and replaced. After a summer of gorgeous weather, the week they were to replace the roof and add rain gutters was the worst since we arrived at the end of April. Ugh. So they are back this week.
Storms are the perfect weather to be laid up, looking out the windows as they blow through. Cozy and snug inside. Perfect weather to make a pot of chicken and vegetable soup. Between the garden bounty Maria Carmen bestowed upon us and the remnants of my potted garden, including my verdant herbs, we have a crock pot bubbling happily on the counter in the kitchen. What we don’t eat we will freeze for another day. The two fridges in the barn are filling up.
And we got nuts. Lots-o-nuts. Coming home last week, the first thing I noticed was all the castañadas (chestnuts) in their pods, which look like baby Star Trek tribbles, littering the ground. They’re everywhere, and no wonder. We have 50 chestnut trees. I know the nuts are in there but it will be painful getting them out! Ouch.
And we have hazelnut trees. I did not know this until they were all over the ground by the car. But the dark brown fluffy-fairytale squirrels knew it. We are their newest favorite place. Running and hopping around. Digging up the yard. Their little babies are so tiny and so cute.
But summer isn’t officially over and we have peach trees still producing fruit. Oddly. Several of them. I love peaches so I’m in heaven. They’re a smallish variety. Bigger than an apricot, but much smaller than a normal peach. But still yummy. Maybe I’ll bake a pie. I could take it to Marie Carmen. Along with the nuts.
Today, I made another pilgrimage into Lugo to the HULA, to see my Ortho Dra. She’s lovely and very hip. Sporting high waisted bell bottoms and groovy statement glasses. Note to self: Must step up my fashion game for appointment next week. I got a steroid shot into my knee and she thinks I won’t need surgery on the knee. Just rehab.
‘In one month you will not be limping. Soon you can resume your walk. But we see how rehabilitation goes.’
So I am to enjoy the first days of autumn getting my knee stronger. But the Lyme deal is kicking my ass a bit. Like I have a weird flu. But not all the time. This morning I was fine going to the Dr. It’s the afternoons where it starts to get bad. Such a weird thing. I feel like if I never ate food again I would be perfectly happy. I hope that stops sooner than later.
But I refuse to let any of this harsh the vibe I have going during my favorite season of the year. This year, unlike in Valencia, we get a proper Fall. Leaves 🍁 turning. Cold, frosty mornings. Warmer afternoons. Time for my Barbour gear to come out of hiding. My favorite knitted sweaters from our last trip to Scotland. With Irish wool throws on every seat in the living room. And thanks to Marie Carmen, our hórreos, while not full this year from our own garden harvest, is stocked with enough veggies to keep us going until Christmas.
Finally, the 40 or 50 oak trees are dropping their acorns. You can hear them hitting the ground sitting on the porch. Hope in a nut shell. They say you should carry one around all winter and plant it in the springtime for good luck. I already have one in my pocket. Because from small things, great things emerge. We have big plans for next year. We can use all the luck we can get.