None of the neighbours we've asked about who it might be that is dumping fresh, ripe apples down into the ravine, has any idea, even several who seem to know everything that goes on around here. The dump grows steadily, the result of someone-or-other trundling wheelbarrows-full of beautifully large red apples down the hillside entrance to the ravine. A conundrum in an age of awareness of waste and the reality that even in our fortunate community there are people with strained incomes who would appreciate that fruit.

Our ravine ramble yesterday took place under both sun and deep shade, but mostly the sky was crowded with clouds, none of which opened up until evening, so we enjoyed our hike with our two little dogs, and as usual shared some wild apples with them.

When we returned home it was with the determination that we would finally take matters in hand and gather the things together that we have meant for months to take over to the Salvation Army thrift shop. Everything from outgrown clothing (weight lost after extreme surgery), unwise purchases (a fireplace tool set we don't need since our fireplace is one fuelled by gas), a slow cooker (which I've never used in a decade), and a pair of bed pillows recently bought which we used once, discovering it gave us sore necks. Along with books, scads and scores of books, perhaps a hundred or more.

My husband gathered the books together. We're hopelessly enamoured of books, but those that are detective and crime novels which my husband reads for light entertainment hold no allure for me. I steeled myself not to peek at the bags brimming with books intended for the Sally Ann, trusting that he confined rejections to those disposables, not wanting to look at any titles and authors I might want to rescue. So we piled up the bed of our little truck and made off with all the offerings, finally disposing of them where others might want to make use of them.

And when we returned home, overwhelmed by the frantic greeting of our two puppies, stayed outside awhile with them so they could run about after one another in their usual manic action-packed way, amazing Mohindar who had come over to chat, that one would pull the other by the ears as they tussled, putting on a real show of mock-fighting for our entertainment.

And then I decided to put together a savoury tart for dinner, to take advantage of all the fresh, local vegetables available to food-lovers in this season. It's perfect for fall, a flaky crust enveloping a savoury mixture of onions, tomatoes, bell pepper, and grated cheese, enlivened with sweet basil. Capped off with fresh Black Mission figs which my husband loves and I groan at having to peel.

And while I did that, my husband went downstairs to  his workshop to complete work on the second of the two picture frames he was producing to hold two paintings whose frames did them no justice whatever.