One of those fine fall mornings when you step outside, look up at patches of blue among the rolling gray, take a deep breath of newly-minted but balsam-scented air, and say "holy cow it's cold." That's also when you know you are going to have fried green tomatoes rather than juicy red ones.

Here is the new tree nursery. We collected about a dozen white oak acorns on or river walk yesterday, and they all sank when put in water. Now we are trying to find some viable red ones. Next spring, little trees, yes?