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. 

Paddle...

 I am guilty of not always making time for things I enjoy. Kayaking is one of those things. I adore paddling around on calm Maine lakes; it is a deeply peaceful endeavor. I have a very nice kayak, but so far this summer, I have not taken it out even once. I lamented this fact to Chris, and Wednesday after work, I found my little boat all dusted off and loaded into the back of my truck. 

The sun was settling, and the lake was perfectly calm. Chris helped me launch and sat with a book while I remembered the rhythm of the water dance. I didn't see so much as a turtle or bird; it was just me and the ripple of water against the bow. 

I didn't stay out long. Chris was patiently waiting, and there were animals to feed and supper to cook, but oh, what a lovely little slice of time I had, and how I appreciate the gift of it. 

Going home...

 This weekend, I did something that not very many 64-year-old people can do: I went home. And by "home," I mean the house I came to from the hospital where I was born, riding in my mother's lap because there were no car seats back then. By "home," I mean the house my father built, adding a room each time another child was due. The place where he laid every brick on the three chimneys, sawed every board, and even dug most of the well for our water by hand. My sister and her husband live there now, and though it looks different in many ways, it still feels the same. The water from the artesian well is still delicious, too. 

I was with my daughter and her two babies, and seeing the Owlet toddling on the same hardwood floors where I learned to walk was a treat. I took her for a little stroll and let her sit on the enormous boulder in the woods I spent hours perching on, pretending it was a tame elephant named Mia. The Owlet didn't see the appeal, but it made me grin to lift her there and remember. 

We were there to celebrate the impending birth of a new baby. My niece and her husband are expecting in December, and we are all so excited to welcome a new little one to love. There was a shower at a beautiful yacht club, and the weather was perfect. My niece was indeed showered with support, love, and gifts. Her sister made incredible efforts to decorate the place beautifully. Her mother and mother-in-law made more magic happen.  The food was delicious, and the tribe of women gathered to support the parents-to-be delightful. 

This weekend, I did something that left me awash in waves of nostalgia while welcoming magical beginnings. It was punctuated by time spent with my favorite people and the giggles of children. I loved every single second, and then I got to come home to my practically perfect husband, my cozy home, and all my critters. We sat in the backyard, shared a little wine, and I reflected on the sweet trip down memory lane while enjoying the bliss of the marvelous present and home we have created. I am so lucky.

Joy and feathers...

 Our little chicken coop has been empty for a few weeks. A friend took my little flock of Cochins to live at her house. Yesterday, Chris and I drove down winding roads past rolling fields and sun-spangled woods to Penobscot Poultry, where we often buy birds. I had arranged to bring home eight rare breed chicks, Olandsk Dwarfs. This breed of tiny chickens originated in Sweden. They have brightly colored speckled feathers in shades of brown, black, grey, white, and tan. I think they will be charming bustling about in the backyard. For now, they are in a brooder in the kitchen, and I am finding it hard to get much done because I sit and stare at them every time I pass by. 

Summer is winding down, and my favorite season is beginning. I love the cool mornings, the grass heavy with dew and spider webs glistening under the slanted rays of early sun. The gardens are covered in rollicking waves of flowers, and roadside stands are laden with pumpkins and colorful gourds. I can't help but bring some home.

 I saw my first wooly bear caterpillar of the season yesterday. Legend has it that they forecast the winter weather by how broad their black bands are. This one predicts we will have a lot of cold and snow. I am pleased to have our firewood in, and the chimney cleaners will come tomorrow. Soon, we will have fires crackling in the stove, and it will be so cozy.

                                                     

I hired a painter to patch and paint the ceilings in our front, dining, and living rooms. They all look bright and clean now, and I am itching to do fall cleaning and decorating. While he was here, I asked if he could give the stairs a fresh coat of paint, and he made them look so pretty. 

We've been blessed with company the past few weeks. Angel from NC with her daughter Sabrina, who works in a museum in Washington, DC, and another daughter, Fields, who is working in Maine this summer. They no sooner left than sister Deb arrived for a quick visit. Good meals and laughs were shared, and everyone enjoyed the Owlet and Cygnet's antics. 

Today, I will pick bouquets of flowers and bake something tasty. I will be grateful for the arriving autumn season, the loved ones who visit, and my snug little home. And new chicks, peeping under a heat lamp and adding joy in the form of feathers to my life. 

Spice of life...

 They say variety is the spice of life. This weekend, we went to two parties, one to celebrate the life of a friend who just turned 90. She sat rather regally on her deck and happily greeted her guests as they came to honor her. 

Born and raised in Maine, she taught music at the University of Maine until she retired. She has had Scottish Terriers for something like seventy-five years, and that is how I met her fifteen or more years ago when she brought a dog to me to be groomed. She's a delightful person and has joined us around our Thanksgiving table for the past several years. 

Her cousin cooked up a storm for her and her guests, and we had perfect weather to sit in her lovely yard and enjoy a fabulous lake view. At one point, she took the Owlet and me into her living room, where a grand piano sits in front of a wall of windows. She sat down and began to play. As if drawn by a giant, unseen magnet, people started to wander in from outside, settling into the comfortable pink upholstered furniture and enjoying the impromptu concert. It was magical. 

The next day, we attended a party for a little girl who bounced up to our car wearing a lavender tutu and an enormous smile when we arrived: "Hi, I'm Daphne. It's my birthday—I'm 5!" The neat yard had multiple wading pools, a slip-and-slide (with bubbles!), a splash pad, a bounce house, a ball pit, and a trampoline. The Owlet made a beeline for the ball pit but also tried a trampoline for the first time. The Cygnet giggled delightedly as she observed the goings on. 

I enjoyed sitting quietly and holding the Cygnet as her big sister explored and played. The yard was filled with shrieks and giggles as well-behaved children enjoyed the smorgasbord of fun things to play with and explore. 

The two events could not have been more different, but the joy was similar. There was admiration for a long, well-lived life and excitement for a new life filled with potential. There was love, singing, and cake. We were so pleased to be part of the celebrations.