Here are some favorite fall – autumn projects here at 320 Sycamore from past years. Click on the picture to take you to the post.
Enjoy!
I’m trying to be better about lunches this year. I dread making lunches every day, so I’ve to mix it up a little and have gotten some great ideas from this site. It’s amazing how looking at other lunches can give you ideas you never thought of, and help break up the sandwich-chips-apple-cookie routine.
** winner of the Mirrormate $200 giveaway is here..is it you?? :) **
We *love* this recipe. I got it from my Mom and I think she got it from Grandma? (Shuz?) Anyway, on Sunday nights we would all gather out at my Grandma Lofgren’s and this would be a favorite to bring and share. My mom would bring it to the neighbors at Christmas as well. It makes a BIG batch. It’s gooey and soft, so if you love the cracker jack, crunch type of caramel corn, this probably isn’t for you. Uhhhh, as you can see, it’s not low calorie either, but it’s perfect for fall~throw in some candy corn for a fun twist! :)
From one of my favorite chapters from Charlotte's Web, I think of it every year as summer is coming to a close and school begins again:
, I think of it every year as summer is coming to a close and school begins again:
The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a sad, monotonous song. “Summer is over and gone,” they sang. “Over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying.” The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days in the whole year — the days when summer is changing into fall the crickets spread the rumor of sadness and change.
Everybody heard the song of the crickets. Avery and Fern Arable heard it as the walked the dusty road. They knew that school would soon begin again. The young geese heard it and knew that they would never be little goslings again. Charlotte heard it and knew that she hadn’t much time left. Mrs. Zuckerman, at work in the kitchen, heard the crickets, and a sadness came over her, too. “Another summer gone,” she sighed. Lurvy, at work building a crate for Wilbur, heard the song and knew it was time to dig potatoes.
“Summer is over and gone,” repeated the crickets. “How many nights till frost?” sang the crickets. “Good-bye, summer, good-bye, good-bye!”
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