Meanwhile, the New England foliage was putting on its annual show.
|The View from Home|
|Leaf cluster above the Batting Cage|
|Foliage near the Pond|
He's also addicted to baseball. Saturday mornings we froze our tails off attending Fall League
The Saturday morning games featured more walks than they should have, and a rather uneven level of talent, but lots of energy, paid coaches, and the familiar feel
|Mandy's New World|
The kids -- mostly the boy -- made breakfast every morning. At 12 I probably could have boiled water for coffee, and maybe could have fried a couple of egg if for some reason I'd had to, but he's starting to bake pies. And they do all this on an old wooden stove, the sort that folks their grandparents' age have seen only in old photographs.
The adults, both capable, bright, college-educated folks, chose this life and live it. They could have professional jobs elsewhere; but he fixes and
Besides their little road-side vegetable stand, the kids were busy making money by parking cars for a barn dance we went to, and the girl babysat a couple of kids a few miles away a couple of nights a week. My own interest was in capturing what I could of autumn in New England in images.
|"Ain't I picturesque?"|
|The New Arrival|
We went over to the farm one afternoon in the family pickup. The farmer, 81, was an interesting man. He knew blueberries, and had had great long rows of them, but was committed to getting rid of them all. He needed to care for his wife, and
|He takes care of her -- and she of him.|
I guess I'm also grateful to them for these images:
|Leaving the Farm|
Once the blueberry bushes have been loaded, he takes her hand and they walk back to the house, holding hands, with their beloved corgie happily accompanying them.