Call me weird if you wish, but I was not that crazy about this week’s warm-up. I was settling in with sweaters and wool socks and then it went back into the upper seventies and beyond. I guess the rest of the county saw some record highs, including triple digits in the mid-West.

I finally purchased some garlic bulbs. I tried a few seed catalogues but found a lot of them were sold out. Better late than never though. Heather Gardens has four different varieties. I got four of each. After I broke them apart I was able to plant two entire beds. I used some Bulb Tone for fertilizer but am anxious that skunks will dig up the cloves looking for the bonemeal in the product. They are doing a number on lawns and garden paths. I am trying to be a good sport because I know they will search out and eat small rodents. I am overrun with voles so hopefully Pepe Le Pew will do his job.

While preparing my hoophouse to receive collard, lettuce and kale seedlings I came across some tiny Red Russian kale plants that had reseeded from last year’s crop. Recognition is everything. They are miniscule but I have hope for them. I love that they “knew” when to germinate. Those seeds had laid dormant all summer with nary a sip of water and probably 120 degrees in the heat of the day under the plastic.

I am crazy about Virginia creeper. I have one vine growing across the top of my vegetable garden fence. It has to be 40 feet long and bright red. There is a nice one on State Road in front of Whiting’s Pond. The word pond is a misnomer these days. There is no water in it!

A few years ago I attended a farmer’s pot luck supper at the Agricultural Hall. Clarissa Allen brought a big pan of baked beans. She had painstakingly shelled her scarlet runner beans for the dish. It was wonderful and memorable. I am leaving my runner beans on the vine to dry and hopefully repeat Clarissa’s masterpiece.

Half of my vegetable garden froze the other night. I was blindsided. I did not expect it although I should have, what with the giant full moon and, yes, the weather forecast.

The zinnias and Sun Gold tomatoes were spared but peppers, heirloom tomatoes and most of the dahlias bit the dust. Part of me was relieved, frankly. It is time to clean up the debris and prepare some areas for winter rye.

I went to the first of the season winter farmers’ market. It was fun to see folks I did not encounter all summer. There was live music, coffee and baked goods. Everyone was in good spirits and it was an enjoyable Saturday morning. I got a duck from the Good Farm, some radishes from Blackwater and spigarello from Ghost Island.

I turned 18 years old in 1964 and therefor was able to vote in my first presidential election. I voted in Rew, Pa. I have always leaned Democratic so naturally I pulled the lever for L.B.J. That’s how we did it, we pulled a lever but the vote was not recorded until we pushed aside the curtain.

Since then, I have marked a paper ballot in Vineyard Haven for well over 40 years. I feel the need to defend the people who work hard in Vineyard Haven to assure all of us town residents that the election is fair and square. Granted, I have not always liked the results but I believe them. I am worried that Trump people are setting us up for a less than successful peaceful transfer of power — a defining quality of our democracy.

All I can say about the next four weeks is Have Mercy!