|hulled, dried English walnuts in shell, grown on Sauvie Island|
Last fall, about a week before Halloween, Jeff and I drove over to Sauvie Island for the day with his mom's silent dog in the back of the Jeep. We stopped at the Bybee-Howell house and strolled around the knarled orchard, peeking in the empty windows, watching a pair of small green frogs hopping across the old cellar door.
|Shiba Inu, Sauvie Island, October 2011|
Then we took Shiba to the beach where she dug holes and snapped at the water's edge while we picnicked on peanuts, cheese, and apples, watching the V's of geese migrating above us, spying from a distance in our jeans, long sleeves, and knit hats on the naked people playing volleyball down the beach.
|dog digging hole in sand, Sauvie Island, October 2011|
|hulled & shelled English walnuts, grown on Sauvie Island|
Maybe it's all the squirrels running around town with their mouths full of nuts, but last night while watching TV we cracked open the first of last year's sweet, barely bitter, U-pick English walnuts, picking free of the hard, dry shells flying around the living room maybe a cup and a half of nutmeats. This morning, I mixed some of them into a batch of homemade granola. And we still have nuts to crack all winter.