ORANGE SQUASH AND DILL PICKLES

The skies tried to drown us this morning and very nearly succeeded. From the safety of a window I did many shots of green persimmons being hammered by rain. Then it stopped and I decided I'd better photograph the squash harvest before they were all gone. Some have vanished into puree, squash risotto and into neighbour's baskets.

They're wet because I put the basket under the kitchen door olive tree for effect (and to escape all the junk on the outdoor table) and a gust a wind came along, shook rain drops from the branches, auugghh, and got the camera wet.

If you ever wanted to know how acorn squash look when left on the vine too long, those yellow speckled ones are the answer. It's a sore subject around here, I can tell you. They had to be grown on a bit of land which is not within walking distance of the house. I kept asking if they were ready and the answer was always "not yet." Little did I know that neither Alessandro nor Himself knew how an acorn squash should look when ready. Dark green, for instance.

And what are the dill pickles doing there? A few days ago I blipped a dill seed head. This stirred memories of my mother's fabulous dill pickles. Perfect strangers offered to send some to me but I had sussed them out on the Internet. (They are not available in Italy.) When the cravings for American or Brit things becomes overpowering, I order stuff from an on-line firm called "We Shop Britain 4 You." They didn't have them but I placed an order for the usual stuff. It arrived yesterday and in the parcel was this jar of dill pickles, with their compliments. How nice can people be? And that reminds me, thank you all for the very kind comments and faves on yesterday's misty shot. I was astonished.

Green persimmon in the rain: Permsimmon