> jumping into life.

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The bike path begins just behind our house - or I should say, a bike path, as Burlington has several - and winds its way to Colchester to the north. About 3 miles down, there's a dirt path that veers off into the Ethan Allen Homestead, and thence to the Intervale. The fields where I learned to cross-country ski last winter are shoulder-high in corn now, most of them, though some are pasture. Some of the trail goes through wood and meadow, with butterflies - monarchs, swallow-tails, and purple and white and blue ones I didn't know - birds, and bees flitting around, chipmunks startling into my path, determined runners who did not return my greeting, and then eventually the blueberry fields. I now have a blueberry mead - or, more properly, a melomel - in the fermentation closet, next to the new batch of sauerkraut.

The last batch has been moved to the fridge; the last batch of pickles was finished this afternoon and we'll start a new one after the farmers' market tomorrow. A new bird at the feeder, but I couldn't tell what it was. How is it almost August?

Did you learn how to make pickles and sauerkraut growing up? And thank you for the new word (melomel). I'll be seeing my uber-mead-brewer friends tomorrow and can't wait to throw it at them and see what happens.

Nope, I learned how to make pickles and sauerkraut when I realized I was spending $50 a month on pickles and sauerkraut. That was a few months ago. I've gotten really excited about fermentation and old (really old) fashioned preserving - without high-heat canning or freezing. Sauerkraut is the classic example. I'm going to start making cheese next week, too!

Glad to supply you with a good word. They're sure to be impressed!

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