I finished off some homemade vegetable beef stew with a nice wedge of Manhattan Fenceline cheddar at lunch yesterday. A first try at apple butter on Sunday came out pretty well. I'm eating it in hot grain cereals in the mornings because yes, it's finally cool enough for them. I got behind on the squash from the CSA box, and they're piling up in the kitchen, destined for soup. There are sweet potatoes in the bin that are about to become either pudding or pie. Tonight, though, will be pork roast, brussels sprouts cut from the stalk, and leek risotto.

Why is it always about food with me? I suppose it’s partly because I never really feel like cooking in the summer. There's so much produce available then that’s best when it’s not fiddled with much, and my reverse-SAD also always kicks in. But I perk back up when the weather changes, and the nesting urge usually picks up then as well. And so I start cooking again.

Of course there's other clues:

Plus lite-brite trees and 50ish temperatures. My students are wearing their customary sweaters and flip-flops. No snow yet, though.