Unfurl

I came home to the farm yesterday and ran straight to the garden. I was completely taken in by this patch of zinnias, each one at a different stage of growth, each one with its own sweet charm.

Summer's end (there, I said it)

Last week of August and I don't know how.  Summer is the one season that, as soon as it arrives, we already miss. 

Harvest dinner

I spent the afternoon with this beauty at Savour Ottawa's Harvest Dinner, an annual event that celebrates local food, producers and makers.

Charcuterie: wild boar pâté, smoked corn & pepper relish, peppercorn salami and sausage, pickled summer vegetables & edible flowers, artisan cheese.

Beet salad with goat cheese and juniper & cardamom soil.

Smoked heritage pork in apple cider glaze.

Countless other dishes followed. Beef brisket, curried summer squash, swiss chard and potato croquettes. We smacked our lips and made room on our plates. 

Finished with cheesecake topped with mixed berry compote and a maple cookie.

A very nice alfresco meal that I would gladly eat all over again.

Urban sprawl

I can't decide if flowers spill from the inside or the outside of this Montreal shop. Either way, it's beautiful. 

While the sun shines

When my family says make hay while the sun shines, they mean it literally. 

Summer picks

Asides from this piece of folk art (which I found on the same day), I scored all of this for 5 bux at a little place near the farm called Honest Bob's. It's the sort of place where you can expect to find just about anything -- so long as you don't mind digging for it. Honest Bob believes in honest work. 

My favourite find was probably this sweet old pin, made for an event that happened exactly 50 years ago to the day.

Matchmaking

Hollyhocks, hydrangea, mint, cilantro, zinnias, clover, daisies, snapdragons, seedum. They all live in different parts of the garden. Today, they finally met. 

The lake house

I spent last weekend at a friend's summer house in the Laurentians. I'm still trying to process these photographs, never mind the fact that such a place exists. To re-encounter nature as though you've never seen it before -- this is why I go to the lake.