The temperature is in the low 60’s, there’s sun and fast-moving clouds, a crisp breeze, no humidity and a clean smell to the air. It’s brisk out. Brisk is one of my favorite words. It sounds like it means, and it describes that fleeting, perfect time between September and October.

Brisk also describes how the animals are behaving. Pip and Caper, who, in my limited experience, are the most mellow goats on earth, celebrated the season this morning by boinging around the paddock and jumping from rock to rock. Candy greeted the day by loping around in circles, and then settled back into her zen-bunny routine. The hens are more active and no longer hunker down in the shade at mid-day. However, Scooter seems unchanged. He still looks for the warmest patch of sunny ground to sun-bathe on.

Steve continues to work on the fencing. Pip continues to help.

goat help

After rearranging the tools, he gives himself a good scratch.

head scratch

Well, I’ve been in front of this computer for too long! I think I’ll go harvest the chard. No telling when that first frost is going to hit.


  1. My mother called those kind of days “Maine Days”. She spent school day summers down in Ellsworth with her family. We had a hen house with chickens during WWII when my father was in the Navy. I remember her digging paths through the snow to bring the boiling water she prepared to thaw the frozen water trays. She always marked her hard boiled eggs with a penciled “HB”. I used to kid her; those were also her initials!
    Extra eggs were put up in ‘water glass’ to preserve them for later use.

  2. They sure do love to help….or is that hinder? :) We’ve added your adventures to our reader at