Autumnification

The dahlias are on their last legs, but a few are still blooming. The flowers are smaller, the bushes spindlier, but they are not letting go just yet. It's almost time to put them all back in the shed. Actually, I put one back yesterday -- one I cut down to the ground a few weeks ago. It didn't look like it was preparing to send up any more shoots. The others still have at least a few leaves but their days are numbered.

My mission yesterday was to "autumnify" the front entrance of our flat. I've had some petunias and a geranium out there for months, and the petunias were starting to look pretty haggard, so it was time for a change. I envisioned a bright chrysanthemum or two, and maybe a pumpkin.

I asked Dave if he wanted to go to the West Hampstead Farmer's Market with me to see what we could find. He wasn't enthusiastic because he took his Crohn's shot on Friday and it always makes him a little tired, but I talked him into it. I feel like I am always straddling a line between indulging his need to stay home and relax and prodding him to not become a recliner-bound hermit, which is his natural tendency.

The Farmer's Market is held every Saturday, and we don't go nearly as often as we should. I have often seen one of our famous neighbors there, and on the way I said to Dave, "Maybe we'll see Emma." The market is held on the forecourt of the train station, so we walked down there and crossed the road to join the crowds among the stalls. Somehow I got my toe wedged beneath the shopping trolley of a woman in front of me -- I don't know whether she backed up or I stuck my foot beneath it -- but when she turned around I was shocked to find that it was indeed Emma! "Sorry," I said, with that reflexive British apology that doesn't necessarily admit any guilt. She smiled at me and that was that. I gave no sign that I recognized her, which is the only polite way to treat famous people.

As you can see above, I found what I was looking for -- but not at the Farmer's Market, which had no live plants and no pumpkins. Instead we bought some big winter squashes from the produce shop on the high street, and then I went to a florist on Mill Lane for the chrysanthemums. I'm not sure how well those squashes will keep outside but since they're still whole I'm hoping they'll last a few weeks and then we can ultimately eat them. We shall see.

The Farmer's Market wasn't a total loss, though...

I bought a vegetarian Scotch egg (with mushroom and lentil filling) and some Gala apples, and had that for lunch on the patio. Scotch egg aficionados (you know who you are) will no doubt groan at the prospect of a vegetarian one, but it was pretty good once I put some salt, pepper and mustard on it.

We also bought a beautiful bouquet of dahlias -- so obviously someone's dahlias are still flourishing. I should have asked them for some hints.

I pulled up our tomato plant, which had been driven into a state of torpor by our cooler weather. The remaining tiny tomatoes weren't growing or ripening and although it still had some blossoms, this late in the season they'd never become fruit. So out it came. We planted it too late -- in June, I believe -- and it was a freebie from one of Dave's co-workers, so I'm satisfied with the handful of ripe tomatoes it gave us.

Last night Dave and I continued watching two Amazon shows that we're enjoying: "Monster: The Ed Gein Story," which is quite gory and a bit tawdry, especially at the beginning, though it gets better as it goes; and "Wayward," which features the always stellar Toni Collette running a reform school for delinquent youth. Both seem like appropriate Halloween viewing.