Lovely November

Until this year, I thought that was an oxymoron. November means gray, dark, cold, damp, colorless. Not so this year. King Neptune here, who sits outside my office window shares my view of things: the pear tree bulging with fruit, the ravens massing in spruce tops, the "alpineglow" like a banked fire fueled by the westering sun. It's been lovely. Warm, fair, gentle. Very not November. I'm pleased to be proved wrong about this. Perhaps I shall look forward to November now.

We just got our delivery of "tips" yesterday: 250 pounds. Ed and Dave are new suppliers to me. They came recommended and we made our arrangements by phone. Their office is a small gang of aging trucks; office equipment comprised of several cell phones, most with full mailboxes. As I began giving Dave directions to Nervous Nellie's, he stopped me, saying,"Oh, we know where y'are. We go wormin' down to the cove there." That would be Pickering Cove across the road and the childhood stomping ground of our jam cook, Patty, who confirmed that, in addition to plentiful mussels and clams, there are abundant worms in the mud. Best left right there and not given another thought, if you ask me. Too late now.

Anyway, tips. Balsam fir tips. Good balsam greens with needles "set" by several hard frosts are central to the appealing look and scent of our holiday gift boxes. The cafe--home to scones and coffee in the summer--is now carpeted with fragrant balsam tips. It's lovely. Ed and Dave are good--they know brush and they know worms, and that's all I want to know about that. . .