A Voting Story...

 When my daughter was seven or eight years old, she had multiple opportunities to meet and interact with a young man running for Congress. He was kind and friendly and made a positive impression on her. He was also undeniably handsome.

She accompanied me to the polls on voting day, and I was pleased for her to witness her mama performing her civic duty. We lived in a big city then, and the polling place was a very large room packed with people. My daughter was excited by our adventure and quietly asked me lots of questions, which I answered to the best of my ability in a soft voice. 

When I got to the part of my ballot that led me to choose the candidate she knew or his opponent, she piped up in a thunderous voice, "Mom, you have to vote for ____." I asked, "Why is that, honey?" hoping she would have some insight into what the man stood for. "Because, mommy, he is SO BEAUTIFUL!" The room erupted in laughter. 

It was one of my favorite voting experiences ever. And the beautiful guy won. 

Tea for a Three...

 The Owlet turned three with a tea party.  Her parents and grands collaborated to plan, shop, decorate, and prepare food and beverages. A gaggle of small children came with their mamas to help celebrate. Aunt Dovie gifted sweet little ceramic cups for the guests to enjoy and take home as party favors. 

Rachel made her signature three-layer chocolate stout cake with chocolate ganache. It was topped with a delightful vintage "Happy Birthday" topper that we discovered this summer at an antique show. 

The cake was as delicious as it was lovely. 

We had tea sandwiches, of course. Peanut butter and jelly, cream cheese and jam, tiny pigs in blankets, a beautiful fruit bowl, hot buttered popcorn, cheese and crackers, and more. The children were all delightfully well-behaved. They played in the bounce house, giggling and gleeful. They played in the studio with all the toys. They snacked. They painted kid-sized canvas bags to take home as a remembrance. 

And then we all went out to meet the goats. 

The children boldly climbed on Billy Goat Gruff Bridge, and the goats joined them, enjoying little hands stroking them. Then the Owlet pointed to my big, contractor-sized wheelbarrow. "How about that?" she asked. We piled a few kids in, and Evans and Rachel pushed them around the pasture as fast as they could run. They all seemed to enjoy the bumpy ride, especially the baby Cygnet, who had a face-splitting grin the entire time. 

The Owlet enjoyed her special day from start to finish, from helium balloons ("boons!") to friends, cake, and gifts. She will rock this three-nager stage. I can hardly wait to see her grow and blossom. 

Goat in a Coat...

 Mornings are busy at FairWinds. There is laundry to wash, coffee to brew, the house to tidy, dogs, cats, two coops of chickens, and six hungry goats to feed. There are water containers to fill and breakfast to cook. It's always a bit of a hurry to get everything done before the day's first customer arrives. So it threw a wrench into the works when Happy goat collapsed at my feet while I fed the girls their morning meal. She struggled to stand and get to the feed bucket, her appetite obviously unaffected by whatever was ailing her. 

Times like this are when I am extra glad for the miracle of cellular telephones. I grabbed mine and took a 15-second video of Happy and her out-of-control rear end. I sent it to my veterinarian, and within moments, she messaged me back, "I'll be over by mid-morning." As I continued my chores, I had flashbacks of Happy in the past few days. One day, she was lying off to the side, a little away from the herd. This is not totally unusual, but it was noteworthy. Another time, it looked like she was a bit wobbly when walking up the steep ramp to Billy Goat Gruff Bridge. I gave her a hard look, but she seemed okay. Puzzle pieces were clicking into place, and there had been subtle signs leading up to this morning's dramatic happenings. 

The veterinarian arrived around 9:30. After she took the goats temperature  (it was low, and she was a little shivery) and examined her, she felt confident that what was ailing Happy was a parasite called meningeal worm. They infect the central nervous system and are carried by white-tail deer, prevalent here in Maine. She gave Happy many injections. B vitamins, steroids, antibiotics, anti-inflammatory medications, and more. She gave the 50-pound goat a dose of oral wormer big enough for a 500-pound horse, and I will repeat that for five days. She left me with a bag full of other medications; some I have to inject under her skin, and others I have to try to get past her sharp teeth. 

Getting back to work, I began brainstorming how to help Happy warm up. I remembered that I had a fleece vest that might work. I mentioned it to Rachel, and while I was drying the pup on my grooming table, she dug through my messy closet and found the vest. I looked out the window to see her with a toddler holding one hand, a red vest in the other, and an infant in a backpack. She caught Happy and put the vest on her, zipper side up. It was much too big. Chris arrived to help. He retrieved a zip tie and cinched the back of the vest, making a fetching bustle with the extra fabric. 

Happy is a little wobbly but seems better already. She has kept her red vest on, and when I slide my hand between it and her back, she is toasty warm. I will continue to follow the veterinarian's instructions to the letter and hope my Happy goat is soon back to normal. 

Create a life...

 "Create a life you don't need a vacation from" is a quote I am fond of. Chris and I have done a pretty good job of doing just that, but it is foliage season in Maine I wanted to get out and enjoy it before the bitter north winds blow the leaves away. I told Chris I thought heading towards Moosehead Lake for an overnight adventure would be fun. Quick as a wink, he'd researched and found a scenic route for us to drive, a historic inn for us to stay in, and a list of likely restaurants in the area to enjoy. All I had to do was leave instructions for animal care, toss a few things in an overnight bag, and we were off. 

The weather was perfect, and the drive glorious. One of the things that makes the foliage in New England so memorable is that while hardwood trees like maples and oaks put on a brilliant show, they are intermingled with dark fir and pine trees to contrast the splashes of gold, orange, and red. There is a reason people come from all over to "leaf peep," it's an incredible sight. We missed "peak" foliage by about a week. The red and orange leaves seem to fall first (though there were still some of each to admire), but the phase slightly past peak foliage is what I refer to as the copper season. We were treated to miles of road that led us through trees glowing in shades of burnished tones. 

We had a delicious lunch on the bank of the lake, then headed to the inn. It rose majestically at the top of a hill, as welcoming as could be. 

The innkeeper greeted us by name and gave us a tour of the downstairs. In the pretty dining room, each table was draped in crisp white linen and set with willowware. A fire danced on the hearth. A little bar was off to one corner. The innkeeper said, "If you want a drink and I'm not here, just help yourself and leave a note telling us what you enjoyed." An honor bar! Beside this room was a comfortable sitting room, and there was also an area with a vintage buffet set with various coffees, teas, hot chocolate, or chai to enjoy. In the center, a domed dish showed off a platter of fresh-baked cookies, and to one side, a small refrigerator held bottled water and soft drinks. A wide porch circled much of the house, and heavy white rocking chairs invited us to sit and admire the view of the lake and mountains. 

She then led us up a flight of stairs past a stunning stained glass window. 

A few steps more and we entered our "room." To our delight, it was actually an entire suite. 

It boasted antique furniture, fabulous views out the windows and a cozy fireplace to enjoy. 

The bedroom had a comfortable king-sized bed and the same epic view. 

Even the bathroom was picture-worthy, with unique vintage tile and a bathtub big enough to swim laps in. 

Once we unpacked and admired our new digs, we headed out to drive around the area a bit. We explored some dirt roads, a pretty pond, and a state park. Evening was approaching, and the local wildlife was quite active and amazingly unafraid. They posed obligingly. 

Chris planned a different route home the next day, so we had all new scenery to gawk at. We held hands, ate too much, laughed a bit, and enjoyed pleasant conversations. Back home, we had dinner in the backyard, watching a fire dance and our animals as they headed to their respective homes for the night. 

                                  photo credit: https://lodgeatmooseheadlake.com/blog/2018/09/best-way-to-see-maine-in-the-fall/

Our getaway was a smashing success. We have tucked the golden-hued memories away to enjoy in the future and are already planning a repeat visit. 

Feathers, wood and whimsey...

 As sure as the days are cooler, as the leaves change color, as the yard is filled with dew-spangled spider webs, there is also a delivery of whimsical pumpkins from our sweet friend Penny. It is something to happily anticipate every autumn. 

There are other signs of the change in season. The wood is stacked and ready for the cold days to come.

And the chickens are molting. The lovely feathers that have kept them warm and dry for an entire year are worn and falling out. They are everywhere in the yard and layer the coop floor in a downy, multi-colored pile. The birds look bedraggled. The rooster has lost his cocky tail feathers and seems somehow diminished. Looking closely at this Buff Orpington's neck, you can see the new feathers emerging in their casings. The birds will be dressed in bright new plumage in a few weeks, but they are a sad sight for now. I'm giving them high-protein snacks to help boost their nutrition as they go through their annual transformation. 

I ordered fanciful autumn-colored ruffled collars for the goats because it makes me happy to see them out frolicking in the pasture bedecked in plaid. Here they are checking out each other's finery. 

They seem to approve. 

All around you...

"Well, there is magic all around you, if I do say so myself..."  Stevie Nicks, Rooms on Fire

 It was a week full of worries about loved ones facing medical challenges, feeling helpless to lend appropriate aid, fretting, and stewing. And still, the daily challenges of keeping hearth and home running, caring for animals, maintaining the regular work schedule, and trying to get fall chores done while the weather is fine. The pace was more hectic than usual, and I found myself sighing deeply often throughout the day. 

Yesterday, a new groomer friend and her sweet toddler came to visit for a bit while we worked.  I took them out to meet the goats when we had a lull. Something on my watering can caught my eye, a big praying mantis! I have been fascinated by these insects since I was a kid. My friends and I used to capture them and keep them as pets for a few days each. We would catch them crickets to eat and carry them about, even bringing them to school, keeping them in our desks during the day, and taking them out to recess on the playground to show them off to our classmates. 

This lovely lady was splendid in her green gown, and to my delight, I realized I'd found her in the process of laying her eggs! I paused for a moment amid a busy day to watch her abdomen pulsing as she went about creating her foamy nest.  

After admiring this little miracle, I took a few more steps and found something else wonderful in my garden. Clack cat had arranged himself adorably in a bucket. 

The visiting toddler enjoyed meeting the goats. I gave her a dandelion head, which she clutched firmly in her chubby fist before she and her sweet mama blew the seeds. She admired my baby chicks in their cozy coop and collected eggs from the big coop, still clutching the wilting weed. I gave her a dozen eggs to take home. 

As we walked back inside, a long-time customer arrived to pick up his dog. He asked me about some flowers in my garden and admired my rose bush, laden with blossoms. He looked me hard in the eye and said, "You are so lucky. This place is magic." It is true. Our home is my anchor when waves of concern keep crashing. If I stop sighing long enough to look, there is magic all around me. 

Last Day of Summer...

 There was a neighborhood pig roast today. A potluck affair with music and farm animals and lively conversation. The food was amazing, the company even better. 

I made my mom's macaroni and cheese recipe. 

The weather was overcast and cool. Just right for long-sleeved shirts or a light sweater. The season is changing. 

When we got home, there was puttering and some quiet time. We evicted the chicks from the kitchen and set them up in a freshly cleaned coop with a toasty heat lamp.  I mucked out the goat cozy, and Chris laid a fire in the backyard ring. We watched the bats come out and circle the dusky sky, feasting on the last of the season's flying insects. Soon, the bats will head for their winter lair, but for now, it is a pleasure to see them stitching through the air on silent wings. 

The chicks were in awe of their new digs. So. Much. Space. The goats dove into their fresh shavings and cuddled in for the night.

As for us, we toasted our knees by the fire and lifted a glass to the last day of summer. 

Welcome, fall. My very favorite season.