August trudges on, with glimmers of fall peaking through the heat every now and then. Because of the recent tropical storm in Southern California we’ve gotten some nice wind and cloudy skies, and even a sprinkle or two of rain. The temperatures remain fixed in the mid to high 90s, however.

My grandpa gifted me a box of pears from a farmer friend of his, and I made maple bourbon pear butter. As it cooked down, the entire house smelled of autumn and it was delightful. Michael helped me with the weighing and peeling process, and absolutely loved it. Let’s hope he maintains his enthusiasm for canning as he grows — I would love a tomato canning assistant in the upcoming years.

I worked through 8 lbs of the box but we still have approximately 5 lbs left. If you have any pear recipes, please share!

We bought an outdoor play set with my parents, and my dad has been working on assembling it just in time for cooler weather. Michael is fascinated with it, and loves to open and shut the doors and climb the ladders. When it’s finished, I have a feeling it’ll be his favorite place.

Michael spent the night away from us for the first time with the grandparents, and Jake and I had a delightful and low-key date night at home. We ordered in from our favorite local restaurant, got frozen yogurt, and played card games and Mario Kart with cocktails. Like the old twenty-somethings we are, we were in bed by 10 pm (and slept through the night!). It was wonderful.

I’ve been pretty sick recently, so the garden has been suffering. Zucchini and tomatoes grow in abundance and I unfortunately can’t keep up. I’ve found more and more cubit-long zucchinis hiding under leaves…thankfully the chickens love them. My pepper plants pop out mini peppers here and there, but my poor cucumbers gave up the ghost in the heat. When I feel better and the weather cools, I plan on putting the garden to rest for fall/winter except for some root veggies like beets and potatoes. I’m hoping we can do some landscaping this fall/winter to make it more of a hospitable yard.

Something that’s continued to delight me is undeserved bounty. I am not a good or skilled gardener — nowhere close. Yet I still have more zucchini and peppers and tomatoes than I can handle. It’s not my skill or my willpower that brings them to life from dust and seed: just my simple trusting labor and God’s overwhelming goodness.

Making continues to be a solace to me, though it’s been slower of late. I’ve continuing to explore writing fiction again, and reading fiction to stoke the creative fires. I finished The Queen of Attolia (5 out of 5 stars) and started the next in the series. I’m always on the lookout for more fantasy or science fiction to read, so if you have any recommendations, please share!

Jake got a 3D printer (something he’s been wanting for a very long time) and has already made several cool things: fidget cubes, toys for Michael to play with, and he has several other projects in the works. He also made me a row counter for my knitting — you can see it in the photo below.

I have several knitting projects on the needles right now, but because I’ve been sick, progress on all has been rather slow. It’s hard to keep track with more complicated projects when my mind and body are weary. So in the meantime I cast on a mindless knit: a cowl with my handspun yarn. It’s a combo of the perfect autumn colors.

I also got a beautiful hand-painted Turkish spindle, and my next project is to learn to spin with it. I love spinning on my spinning wheel, but spinning on a spindle has its joys too. Plus, it’s much more portable.

This entire month, I’ve tried to find the balance between looking forward to the future while also appreciating the present. And to be honest, I’ve mostly failed. The summer sun and illness have done a number on my patience and enthusiasm. I find myself despising the glaring heat and wishing it could be mid September already.

But if wishes were fishes, we’d have a river full. So instead, I find myself staring down my own sanctification, learning to embrace the moments I’m given as they come, with whatever resources or health I have. Life continues on: a toddler to feed and entertain, pears to can, dishes to wash, laundry to fold. How I choose to react to illness or heat won’t change my surroundings, but it will change me.

So I admit, I work on my sanctification imperfectly and grudgingly. And I find solace in knitting and canning things that remind me the heat (and hopefully this illness) will indeed be over. Someday.