The sun finally came out from the low-hanging clouds today to give my group from Long Island some beautiful fall foliage views from Crane Mountain. They were such a fun group (2 couples) that I hated saying goodbye when the trip was over.

Things are perking along with the business, and it continues to be very hard work with most of my time spent on marketing. My internal CEO is in my ear all the time saying that the financial manager has to have some time, but there are only so many hours in a week, and that sector of the business has had to be neglected. I'm enjoying the challenge of running a business so much, though, and I do work so hard at it that I figure that everything is going to work out eventually.

But if I had one wish (or maybe two), I'd wish for more time outdoors studying the natural world. My other wish is that I'd have more time to do some non-business writing--fiction writing, blogging, and journal writing, I mean. Okay, a third wish--that I can be fortunate enough for the business to be able to afford a dedicated business vehicle that I could use to ferry my clients around. That would be great, but the insurance (both auto and business liability) would be very expensive. Still, I can dream.

The sun is very low in the sky and is shining on the sugar maple outside my office window right now--red, orange, yellow, and green all lit up--so beautiful!

Today is Ken's birthday, so I'm taking him out tonight to celebrate even though we're going to the "big city" of Glens Falls for an official celebratory meal on Tuesday. I don't know where we'll end up tonight, but I hope the kitchen wherever we go is ready for me. I have a huge appetite after mountain climbing.

Unbelievable but true: I wrote the following entry last Saturday, August 26, on my laptop in North Creek, but wasn't able to get around to posting it until this morning. I was going to delete it but decided to put it up anyway. So here it is:

Last Saturday in August and Café Sarah’s is buzzing. I’ve had to wait (imagine!) to get a blogging perch at the counter area that overlooks Main Street.

Nights have been cool, actually downright cold at times. I’ve loved it as far as sleeping is concerned, but I’m wondering if my garden peppers will ever turn red and if I’ll get any more full-grown summer squash and cukes. I’ve got dozens of tiny squashes all ready to pop, but they need warmer weather, especially warmer nights. Yes, I can confirm the fact: It’s difficult growing vegetables here.

Maybe that’s why I’ve had a lot of satisfaction with my container garden on our deck, and I’ll definitely repeat the experience next year, with some adjustments. I’ll plant more tomato plants that are resistant to fusarium wilt and verticulum wilt. These diseases haven’t wiped out my tomatoes by any means, but they have diminished the productivity of two varieties I’ve planted. Next year, I’m planting more tomatoes and squash, and more lettuce and mesclun. I’d love to get into the perennial flower thing, but I’ve enjoyed our wildflowers so much, I’m wondering if I’ll ever bother to make the time, given my work restrictions.

I started the tomatoes too early and the eggplant too late, so next year they will both be planted on April 8-12, along with the eggplant and the peppers.

My favorite Adirondacks month will be here this coming Friday (yippee!), and I hope to jam it with time spent outdoors under blue skies. Besides guiding clients in the wilderness, I want to expand my safari possibilities by exploring lots of new mountains and trails. And I’m going to try to snatch some time for paddling with Ken. We both need to just steal the time and do it. What are we here for anyway?

When I drove into North Creek this morning behind a mini-van with New Jersey plates, all packed to the gills, I was seized by a moment of sympathy for the vacationers inside. They have only one or two weeks here with the mountains and lakes, and then must pack up their memories for another year and return to what is to me, the sterile urban/suburban environment. Don’t get me wrong: I love spending time in cities, but from an environmental point of view, they’re a wasteland.

One of the realtors in town just this minute said hi and we compared notes on all the folks building on our mountain road. All I can say (to myself) is ohmigod. It’s dizzying—there’s going to be a whole lot of building for the next year or two. (Five different houses within about three-tenths of a mile from our place. Of these, three are weekend people.) And the year-round people are really, really nice folks. Another good thing is that no one has a house lot less than 7.5 acres (as mandated by the Adirondack Park Agency), and the other, as this realtor pointed out, everyone she knows who is building spent a long time hunting before they selected our road, so perhaps most of them will do their best to try to maintain its wild integrity.