Yes, I know it's only August, but the nights have turned colder, and mid-sleep one of us usually pulls up the extra blanket from the foot of the bed. Mornings are downright chilly, and I remember this kind of chilliness from when I was a kid, during blueberry season. We would huddle miserably in the barn where the berries were processed, in sweatshirts and flannel overshirts and even gloves.
When the weather changes like that you know that no matter what the calendar says, summer's almost done with us.
The tomato worms have appeared, and it seems my husband has a talent for seeing them far more easily than I do. Only one to a bush so far, but one greedy hornworm can decimate an entire bush in three days, and take huge bites out of the green fruit too, damn him. So we find them and take them for walks down to the forest edge. Let them work it out, they are too pretty (not to mention squashy) to kill. Coward that I am.