I stopped at 7A the other day and remembered all that is good about the Vineyard post-Labor Day. There was no humidity and all the locals were out in force. A couple of elderly gentlemen were sitting on the porch enjoying their coffee and gabfest. A little boy was working his way through a bagel as big as his head. I treated myself to an espresso/chocolate chip scone. It seriously doesn’t get better than this.

Now is the time to take a few moments — days even — to enjoy the fruits of our labors.

I’ve been harvesting and cooking like a mad woman. After the peas were done in mid July, I yanked them from the trellis and replanted with some scarlet runner beans and some Fortex French pole beans.

The runners are blooming away and attracting hummingbirds. Love that! I do not pick them until the pods dry as I love how the dried beans look — magenta and black mottled. They would be great for a bean art project if I was the least bit artsy.

My new favorite is the Fortex bean. They are the French horticultural type, only climbing over six feet tall and producing thin, round fillet-type beans over 10 inches long. I’m actually picking them in a timely fashion, so they are still tender and delicious.

My son Reuben likes to soak them in vinegar for about an hour and then eat them raw. All have always enjoyed them raw, but the vinegar is a nice change.

My 10-year-old heptacodium, aka seven son flower, is in full and glorious flower. It is teeming with bees, mostly bumbles. The white flowers change to pink calyces eventually and hold their leaves and color long into the fall. Finally, in winter, the exfoliating bark is lovely and interesting. If you need a nice ornamental, I highly recommend heptacodium.

I’ve never been bothered by bumblebees. They seem too fat and lazy to be aggressive. Word to the wise, however, they will sting when inadvertently grabbed. I only say these things because they’ve happened to me . . . twice this week!

I picked the last of my Roma tomatoes. There were not enough of them for a canner load, and I did not want to dirty the Squeezo strainer for such a small job. As luck would have it, I had a chicken stock simmering in the crock pot. I had already strained it and skimmed the fat. I had added a couple tablespoons of miso and was pondering what to make with it.

I skinned the tomatoes and put them whole into the stock, turned it off at once, refrigerated it and hit the sofa for the evening.

Next night, I made a quick pizza. I use thin-crust whole wheat Boboli bread in summer, homemade bread dough in winter. Anyway, I scooped all the tomatoes out of the stock and piled them on the Boboli with some basil and mozzarella cheese. It was a big hit with Violet and I still had tomato-flavored chicken stock left — a win-win!

I’m having a difficult time understanding the minimum wage argument. John Boehner keeps complaining that a rise in the minimum wage could hurt small businesses. I own a small business and I would be unable to sleep at night if I paid a worker so little. In fact, I’ve been asking around and no one can think of minimum wage employers on the Island.

We all know . . . it’s the huge profit-driven multinationals who pay measly wages. I throw my whole support behind the fast food workers on strike nationally.

Henry Ford paid his employees enough to buy his cars; a man with economic vision.