The Beginnings Of Autumn

Even before the hot days became cool days, skeins of Canada Geese were passing overhead. Then one day I noticed that the Pennsylvania Smartweed in the pasture was turning red:

Because Rose Mallow blossoms are all at the top of one stem, I can't cut any without cutting them all and therefore have to wait until the end of the season. I wanted to bring some to church but there were no flowers on the Sunday I planned to do so. The next Sunday, though, there was one red one. I cut it, put it in a vase and filled in around it with flowers from the Tree Hydrangea:

The Rugosa roses put on an end of season display. I may cut them down to about half their height this winter to give them a fresh start in the spring:

I discovered a new wildflower while walking across the south field but couldn't identify it. I sent a photo to a botanist in Saratoga County but she said it was insufficient for an ID and suggested I photograph an entire plant on white paper. I sent her this:

I sent five other photos, including closeups of the tiny flowers. I thought they might be American Pennyroyal, but she said they were Hyssop, an unrelated plant. It was a first for me and I thanked her for her help:

Sunrises are often spectacular this time of year:

I cleaned the barn floor again. I'll be happy when the horses can stay outdoors all night (if they want to, which they usually do):

I was driving the tractor around the pasture, searching for Remy's shucked muzzle when I spotted Christmas colors along the fence line. I had to get off the tractor and cross the fence for a closer look (I'd had the presence of mind to turn off the electricity before I went out). It was Bittersweet Nightshade with autumn berries, a common enough plant and long one of my favorites:

I also found these Wild Cucumber vine fruits in the barnyard while searching for Remy's muzzle. In fact, that's where I found them - just a few feet from the muzzle:

The Morden Sunrise rose produced a flurry of blossoms. I took many photos but none truly showed the beautiful pink and yellow petals. They are truly striking, much more colorful than they look in this photo:

The Mandarin Honeysuckle didn't grow much until the end of the season, but then it began taking off like a rocket. I think it's going to do well over the winter:

The neighbors stopped by with a basket of the most uniformly ripe cherry tomatoes I've ever seen. They were delicious and didn't last long. I sure have good neighbors:

September Abundance

Japanese Knotweed may be one of the worst, most invasive weeds, but I have to admit that they are kind of pretty when in bloom. These plants were sticking out of the top of the Mock Orange bush, so I broke them off after taking the photo:

 I trudged out to prepare a bed in which to plant the three new rose bushes when they arrive in April. I dreaded the swinging of the pick and hefting of the shovel. Then I realized that the tractor could do the job in a few seconds. First, I scooped out a trench between the Tree Hydrangea and the two new Morden roses (the Rose Mallows are on the far left of the photo):

 I dumped that bucket full of soil behind the barn and then scooped a heaping bucket of old compost. I brought it around to the front of the house and dumped it in the trench I'd just hollowed out. The only hand work involved was a bit of leveling the compost. It was a happy occasion except that the Globe Thistle I'd worked so long and hard to grow had died in that very spot. I tried planting Globe Thistle seeds and 12 roots, but only one plant resulted - and it died, dead as a doornail, in midsummer. Next April I'll give more hardy roses a try:

 I cleaned out the barn floor by first using a snow shovel to move it to the center, where once again the tractor could do most of the lifting for me. Remy came in to "help" me. He needs to be in the middle of everything:

 When I had Remy's seal of approval (and when he was satisfied that there was nothing to eat and no mischief he could perpetrate) he joined the cows out on pasture:

 A quick walk around the yard revealed a New England Aster plant blooming beneath the apple trees:

 And right behind the New England Aster, on an old stump, was this Turkey Tail fungus:

 I had to stop mowing near the apple trees, which were dropping apples all over the grass. Some were big and red:

 Some were smaller but more numerous:

 And the pear tree was so heavy laden with fruit that the branches were touching the ground. The Postman was pulling onto my lawn each day and helping himself to pears:

 And the weight of the fruit was so heavy that more branches were snapping off. A family up the road will collect and use the fruit when they are fully ripe, but there is so much of it this year that it's hurting the tree:

 I seldom notice the farm sign anymore, at least in the summer when it's hidden in the leaves, but one side of it is holding up well. The other side is peeling. When it's no longer usable, I'll bring it inside the barn and affix it to the wall as a decoration:

Farm Dogs, Farm Cats - Living The Good Life

The dogs and cats here are indeed living the good life. A case in point would be this collection of Clover, Daphne, Fergus and Jack lounging in the kitchen corner:

The cats stay in the house, but the dogs get to go out into their fenced yard often:

They seem to love it outdoors but still often collect at the gate, waiting for me to let them back in:

Bugsy is now the only cat who joins the dogs on the floor pillows, but he climbs right in on the pile:

Daisy has several favorite spots to nap, and this bed on top of a bureau is one of them:

Clover, Fergus and Daphne. Notice that Fergus couldn't restrain his yawn long enough for me to snap a picture. Or maybe he was making an editorial comment:

Bugsy again, making himself comfortable between Clover and Daphne:

Daphne is the only dog who goes inside the dog house, sometimes using it for shade or shelter from the rain:

Old Georgette began climbing to the tipsy top of an upstairs cat tree. She spent much time there, clearly not worried about it toppling:

Bugsy cuddled up against his friend, Clover, while Fergus kept a bit of distance:

Outdoors by the maple tree, a perfect spot to bark their fool heads off at everything that moves, real or imaginary:

One more shot of the beloved green floor pillow, this time with Clover, Bugsy, Fergus and Daphne:

Late September Around The Farm

September and October are my favorite times of the year, with warm and sunny days, cool nights and gentle breezes. The Red Poll girls like this time of year also:

Blue and Remy are so intent on grazing that little else crosses their minds during the day. Their grass muzzles slow down their eating and they want to eat faster:

The pink Rose Mallows slowed down their blooming and the Red ones took over:

Those giant flowers require giant buds:

The fantail pigeons produced many babies this summer and there are two more just hatched nestlings as I write this. They won't hold still for me to count them, but I think I have 35 birds now:

The biggest Ninebark bush turned a darker burgundy color with bright red highlights:

The brightly colored Morden Sunrise rose stopped blooming but the more muted Morden Blush rose took over:

And the morning skies here are often spectacular. This was the northeast sky one morning:

And that same morning, a pink and blue sky to the southeast:

I was so happy with my two Morden roses, the company I bought them from and their prices, that I ordered three more amazingly hardy varieties for this coming spring. One is Watercolors Home Run, a continuously blooming, Zone 4 hardy rose variety:

And a Morden Snowbeauty, a repeat blooming variety which is hardy to Zone 2 (yes, Zone 2 - that's not a typo):

Carefree Delight is a continuously blooming rose, hardy to Zone 4 with canes which grow to 5 feet high. I haven't yet prepared a bed for them but I need to do so before winter because they are scheduled to arrive in April:

Goodbye To Lucky

The herd was peaceful and relaxed, with our drought ended and so much grass growing that I couldn't tempt them into the barn for grain. They were happy:

Little Lucky wasn't so little any more. He'd become a big boy:

The herd basked in the sun, and Lucky was part of the herd, though I knew I'd need to sell him soon:

The problem was how to get Lucky to come into the barn for grain. I placed an ad in Craigslist and got a call within the hour:

A family came out to see him and liked what they saw. They gave me a deposit and I promised to call them when I could get Lucky trapped in the barn:

When the day came, I rang the bell for the cattle. They ignored me, so I walked out into the field with the bell and two bowls of grain. I put the grain right under the nose of Rosella and Scarlett, the two who would be most likely to come to the barn. They were also Lucky's mother and grandmother, who he'd almost surely follow:

It took a lot of coaxing, but I finally got them into the barn. Then I closed the door on just Lucky. He was not happy:


I went inside to call the buyers and when I returned to the barn, Lucky was staging what he thought was his escape. I shooed him back inside the fenced area:

The buyers couldn't get here until afternoon, so I walked to the barn every half hour or so to check on Lucky, who was determined to escape. He couldn't get out of the barn, but he could get out of the barriers - and he kept trying:

He finally broke through that pallet I'd chained to the wall on the right side of this photo, ripping the chain right out of the wall. I found him wandering around the barn, knocking things over and searching for an escape route. I shooed him back inside the barriers and put the pallet back up:

He spent a lot of time at the barn door, mooing to his mother, Rosella. She stood on the other side, mooing back to him. It was sad, but had to be done. They generally get over the separation quickly, though in this case mother and son had all day to lament their parting:

Lucky was never as friendly as Rocket, my purebred bull calf, but he was every bit as much of an escape artist. The family arrived at 4:30 in the afternoon and backed their trailer up to the barn door. Lucky jumped right up inside the trailer, no ramp needed. He's now at his new home, where I know he has a couple of miniature horses to hang around with, just like he was used to here: