September was a month of fast change. 33 degrees one week, 3.5 degrees the next. Summer to fall in 10 days. It was also the month when a lot of our plans changed.

My husband took some time off early in the month, and we enjoyed long walks through the summer forest.

We attended a local festival that was 20% music and 80% talks about the current fascist threat to the area.

I don’t want to know how much heavy metal was burnt for the bengalos that weekend. It was often hard to breathe.

But I had needed the weekend. The weeks before the festival, I’d been drained politically and socially. More and more of the people around me had turned out to hold political views I can’t tolerate.

Intolerance is what I have least tolerance for, this was exhausting. It felt like a constant dance around topics to avoid, neighbors to dodge, places not to go.

Soaking up sunshine on hot days was bittersweet, as winter greens and harvests reminded me winter was coming. Military planes are becoming way too common around here–a constant noisy reminder of war and suffering.

I kept telling myself I’d just have to stick it out for another year, maybe two, then we’d get out of here.

We’d returned to Germany because of my health and the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. Returning to Germany had always felt like a failure, like giving up on the dream of living abroad.

Six years in California, New Zealand, and the Netherlands had changed my perspective. My idea of Germany kept clashing with my perception–both ways.

I hated living in Germany again. I hated winter. I hated the people. I hated all of it. During winters, I fell deep into my depression. I hated it here with all my heart. But mostly I hated being back after having to leave our home. Twice. It felt like failure.

The people around me on a daily basis feed my worst views of Germany and Germans. But there were also people who were fighting against the wave of racism, fascism, and sexism. The festival pushed the narrative I’d built until it broke.

I still have a lot of work to do to change my internal narrative about winter, Germany, and especially Germans. We are staying in Germany. Or at least, it’s a very real option for the first time in a decade. Staying in Germany is our plan A.

The garden had been chipping away at my hate for months. The festival did the rest. I still can’t wait to get out of the apartment we live in. I still can’t wait to grow on my own land. I still absolutely need to tell myself that we’ll get out of here soon. But “here” has become a lot smaller.

Our apartment is small and falling apart. My neighbors and I share few values. I hate this place. But the area has been growing on me for a while. The festival added hope.

I said this in a previous video: leaving now feels like fleeing. I think it’s high time I accept that I am German. All my life, I’ve been insisting that I’m not the typical German, really, barely German at all. Thanks to how I grew up, I am indeed very different from the typical German. Living abroad added to that.

But there are so many Germans who aren’t like the typical German, whatever that even means. I’ve grown prejudiced against Germans. I expect the worst of them. And while I am often right, I am also often wrong. A German racist toward Germans. Great job, Kate.

I’ll learn to not expect the worst from the people here. Add it to the list of challenges that come with staying.

In the few short weeks since the festival, my perspective on the garden has changed a lot. I’m propagating some berry bushes, starting seeds for fruit and nut trees. If we stay close, I can take many of my perennials.

And the lessons learned here will be much more relevant. Some lessons I skipped will now need to be learned. Overwintering chilies, for example. Learning how to grow winter greens, winter grains, and supplementing with indoor gardening–

If I’m being honest, part of me has been considering staying for a while. Why else did I want to learn how to grow winter greens so badly, experiment with winter wheat? I’ve saved way to many seed for one or two growing seasons–and they’ll grow best in this climate.

I think the main challenge will be learning to deal with cold–but not in the garden. Darkness and cold are my enemies. That narrative is strong inside me. And I really, really hate winter. I’ll have to learn to hate it less.

I admit, I am excited about staying. The decision feels right. Okay, enough talk about the future.

Let’s talk about the garden work you’ve been watching for the past 7 minutes. After harvesting the last of the potatoes–yes, really the last of them this time… I seeded corn salad and a second variety of spinach in two of the now empty beds.

I hadn’t yet decided on more beds for the garlic and onions, so I added a fast ground cover to the third empty bed. The first frost would kill it at the ideal time to plant onions and garlic bulbs. Now, we’ll see what I do with the third bed once the ground cover freezes. I know we’ve been talking about accepting winter, but I’m still very much in denial about it.

Fall fell fast this year. Four weeks after this footage, we’ve turned on the heating for the year. It’s hard to believe it’s only been a few weeks since the heat wave that was our summer.

Two weeks later, we’d be wearing thick jackets on another long forest walk. The thicker winter pants came out of the bottom drawer, too. From shorts to winter pants in ten days.

While I am preparing for the first frost, you get a few more episodes of summer. So long, and thanks for being here.