Bye Summer...

So simple... Sweet & dry vermouth with lemon.

 While we wait for that last blast of heat representing the Bay Area's true Summer, it's hard not to be aware of the coming Autumn: the sun dropping closer to the horizon, mornings more cool, leaves changing in various stages of color even though never a rival to New England's. It's been good, though, this transition from the City to the East Bay. Yes, I still miss the rumblings of the passing street cars, the evening moan of fog horns, not to mention dim-sum, pho, and our favorite coffee roasting guy all within a few blocks. But, we've done okay.
 As has been mentioned, having the sun pop out each day just after breakfast doesn't stink. To be within a short stroll of Monterey Seafood, The Cheese Board, The Local butcher shop, Monterey Market, etc. makes filling bellies and senses very easy. The fog leaches in, but does so after sundown allowing for lunches in the garden, evening cocktails in the last of the warm light. Ah, yes, and to be able to barbecue! What a concept!!! About this time last year, we had some old friends in from Hawaii who I took up to the roof, our normal grilling spot. It was a short visit. Neither the intense shock of green just beyond the roof line that was Golden Gate Park nor the tales of seeing the Faralon Islands on a clear day could keep them.

Rockfish over kale and fennel.

 So, while our unwavering love for the City takes us often over the Bay Bridge, it is with gratitude that we have enjoyed these past few months across the bay. If it's time for Fall, fair enough. We'll eat the last round of tomatoes from the garden, steal a trip or two over for rays at Stinson, and set the weathered table in the courtyard for as many meals as will allow. Then...
 Already Katie's lamenting the lack of a good hard rain. (How quickly they forget!) But, the last of the neighbor's figs are dropping over the fence, the persimmons on the tree are approaching color, and a cord of oak and almond wood stands ready for the fire. No, not the same as waiting for the pop and chug of Jean Ive's tractor to climb up out of the village to our place in Charmé, but Alfredo made fine work in placing the truck load of hard wood perfectly at our gate. (A little too perfectly for Katie's liking, as she was less than keen for the stacking process, having just finished an hour work out with the ladies.)

The offending pile!

 With guests having to defer to the Spring from what had been a scheduled Fall Session in France, we had looked forward to just playing about the house there, no tug of responsibility. We didn't count on, however, the crush of work (If you can call meals, markets, and wine work.) filling in here the void left from our change in schedule there. Not possible to convey the emptiness of missing friends, neighbors, and the land, we will instead savor our return to the Charente early next year, while warming our cottage with a crackling fireplace, and filling our table with food and good people to share it with.