As I sit at my desk writing this article, I am quite convinced that the season has officially changed to fall. Yes, the calendar reading “September” might have something to do with it.
But I am more inclined to look outside my door for the signs of the changing seasons. At least it’s not raining today. Windy, far too windy to fall trees for the winter wood supply. But hey, it’s not rain.
To me, fall consists of rushing around like a crazy person getting everything ready before the first snow hits. Yes I know I said the ‘S’ word and its only September, but what can I say? I see it on the mountain peaks every day going to and from work. And there is just something about seeing all that white that induces a sense of panic when I look at the yard and at how ill prepared I am for it to creep further down the mountain slopes.
I am in the middle of butchering season, a fall tradition on the farm. Then once that long, long, long process is over, it’s time to clean all the equipment, pens and houses to care for the feathered kind, while at the same time getting the winter laying hen house set up for the cooler weather.
In between all this, there are new horse corrals to be built, hay to buy and store and dog houses to be inspected, cleaned and filled with fresh straw … just in case one of my very spoiled canines decides that they want to spend some time outside.
I also have to try to come up with an area where I can hang all my wild bird feeders so that the cats don’t find them. That, in itself, has been the most daunting task I’ve faced so far this year. With five cats on the property, all the feeders are taken down as soon as it’s warm enough for them to venture outside in the spring.
This also means I have to cat proof the house again, even though I’m starting to think that there is no such thing as cat proof. The term reminds me of child proof bottle caps that only children seem to be able to open.
Yes, fall is here and no matter what I do over the summer I still end up running around like crazy. So, if you see someone in town running down Main Street, carrying an over-sized bag instead of a purse and she happens to be wearing clothing that looks like she just got out of a wrestling match with a moose; and has hair that is sticking out in all different directions, it’s probably just me, trying to get back to the farm as quickly as possible.
