|A couple more clippings from the garden. Dried Gourds found antiquing in New Hampshire|
Here we are. Fall has arrived. Fall has arrived in our sleepy little town in Warner, New Hampshire. First, the trees began to turn a brilliant hue of green. It seemed as if someone was shining a flashlight through the woods and lighting up the limes and sherbet tones in the leaves to bring out their brilliant greens.
|Beautiful Fall Foliage Drive from Hopkinton thru Goffstown, New Boston, and Amherst|
We have been picking our apples off the trees of our orchard in a race to put them into cool storage before the squirrels, chipmunks, and birds take off with them. The apples are so delicious and each one looks so adorable hanging there off the branches. My hard work in the spring pruning each tree paid off. The orchard looked less wild and overgrown compared to when we first bought the farmhouse.
Last weekend was completely awesome as well as unplanned. We had an apple cider making weekend at the tavern across from us and I cannot wait to collect the images from that fabulous and beautiful fall day. I don't even want to write more about this wonderful day of community and culture because I want to save it all for a dedicated article.
We have birthdays here that have just passed and birthdays yet to come! That means birthday cakes and birthday cakes and more... Boston Cream Pie is Patrick's favorite. I've been making a Boston Cream Pie for him for going on 20-something years now. Some have been wonky, some too thin, some too thick...it seems to be an interesting outcome each year.
|Ajax, the resident Irish Wolfhound who lives at the tavern next door...ambling up the road for a visit|
We still had a house full of wonderful workmen during our renovation months. We put the Boston Cream Pie on the kitchen table, made the announcement to the crew, and slice after slice was gobbled up...with a round of "happy birthday" chanting somewhere heard in between bites.
I'll miss the characters that came in and out of, not only our house, but our lives this summer. There was lovable George, the drywaller, with his super heavy Bostonian accent who made us laugh when he said, "Eh!??" when he didn't hear something.
There was engaging Nick, the painter, who almost became a family member by the end of the summer. Nick came to work each day with the most amazing positive attitude and outlook on life.
Two workers were expecting their first babies...John and Jim. The excitement was palpable as we all looked at them with anticipation if their phones rang while they were at the house. We were fortunate to share in their anticipation, hear the accounts of birth, and croon over the baby pictures that followed.
Jim, one of the soon-to-be new Dads, competes in the local "oxen-pulls" at the local fairs. I have never heard of "oxen-pull" competitions before. Jim let me know he will be at the festival this weekend in our small town. Oxen pulls...here we come! I definitely am going to find the venue for this and cheer him on! Oxen-pulling...go figure...he says it's serious stuff!
We've been sampling the homemade cider donuts that lure families, ahem...as well as the apples, out to the many apple orchards around New Hampshire. I'm looking forward to collecting the photos of apple orchard visiting here on "Thyme" too. We certainly didn't need to buy apples with our little orchard supplying us in full but there is no reason to turn down the lure of apple cider donuts!
|Tasha and Nellie came up the road with their owner, sweet Megan, to chat about...oh....probably apple picking and festival hopping|
Each day, we try to get out for a long cool walk to watch the leaves start their turn of color. In the morning, the sun rests on the red roof of the covered bridge down our hill and lights it up brilliantly. The trees surrounding the bridge, that sweep up into the Mink Hills, frame it in pinks, greens, oranges, and yellows. It is truly like walking in a picture post card or one of those tourist calendars.
We didn't realize when we bought the farmhouse that there is this old gnarly apple tree at the very tip of our property near the road going down to the bridge. The tree looked part dead and we didn't pay very much attention to it. That is...until tiny little pale green/yellow apples started to appear all over the tree. We think they are called "ginger golds". Boy, are they delicious little wild apples. They are tiny but the flavor is so floral and light. Every time we go out for a walk, we try and scoop up pocket fulls to put in cold storage to enjoy during winter.
I packed up a hot thermos of coffee, rolled down the windows a bit, and started my journey from town to town. Hopkinton, NH is absolutely picture-postcard quaint. The beautiful stately historic homes in the town center are all decorated with fall decor. Pumpkins are everywhere and my favorite scene was the scarecrow couple holding the little scarecrow "baby".
I made my way further south through the charming town called Goffstown. There was a sign that said I was crossing the Piscataquog River. I chuckled. I'm sure it is a name derived from Native American tribes that inhabited the area, but the names around here are so cute and quaint sounding.
I swung over a bit to the southwest through New Boston and the scenery just continued getting prettier and prettier. The road began to parallel a tumbling little river called Meadow Brook. Gosh, it reminded me of our drives through Switzerland where it seemed every country road was placed right next to some babbling brook.
At the rate I was going at this point, it was going to take most of the day to finally get into Boston. I was approaching lovely and bucolic Amherst, NH and fell in love with the sweet charming neighborhoods and town center. I could tell that I was passing through one of the final quiet little stepping stone towns before entering the sprawl of Boston.
What I didn't anticipate, but which I fully embraced, where the string of antique shops that popped up on the left side as well as the right side of the road. The thermos of coffee was drained and I had enough energy flowing to sweep through about 3 antique shops before I finally arrived in Boston.
|Somewhere New Hampshire...lost on the tiny windy roads between New Boston and Amherst.|
|The surprise winner apple for us? The tiny wild ginger golds from the front apple tree...that we didn't know existed!|
|New windows. Exterior painted! Antique rocking chairs on the front porch!|