Last day, right? Getting ready to wake up and brush your teeth tomorrow in total darkness? Resetting the furnace controls, putting that last screen on the garage window, taking care of the chickens’ new watering system? Well, I know you aren’t doing that, but we are.

I have to report that Gracie chicken is no longer with us. She simply disappeared sometime yesterday, and we have no idea what happened to her. She had been moulting heavily for days, was especially snappish and bossy, feathers everywhere (except where they belonged, on her). You know the expression “plucked chicken” and you expect that it’s in reference to one already deceased? It’s not pretty, and we did wonder how she would keep warm these last cold days. Anyway, hawk? Coyotes couldn’t have gotten into the orchard, but a cougar could have. It will remain a mystery. Now we wonder who, of the remaining four, will ascend to the throne.

I’m not sad. She was too mean to the others for me to feel any warmth for her, but I do regret that we failed to keep her safe. Keeping chickens is relentless. No more than the responsibility for any other animal, I suppose, 🧐. Hmm. I have to interrupt. My computer suddenly flashed a smiley face on the bar. Did it think this was a funny moment? It has never before, to my knowledge, contributed to the blog. I tapped on the little face and suddenly there was an array of emojis from which to choose. As you see, I picked the puzzled face. Next I suppose it will presume to edit me in the way Word does on its site. Don’t know what I think about this development. For all you know, maybe the computer IA is writing this whole thing and I’m simply sitting in front of the fireplace working my Spyder.

Okay, back to the chickens: We needed a new watering system because they had been in the practice of climbing onto the lid of the existing tank and, from there, pooping down into the tray of fresh water. Ugh. What we have just installed is a device with little nipples along its side which provide drops of clean water on being pecked. The nice woman at WilCo insists that the birds are so attracted to the bright shiny nipples that they can’t resist pecking. And they can’t get up on top of it. Hope this works!

Other farm news: not much. The tractor is in the barn for the season, the garden cleaned of spent tomato plants and etc. The tree leaves aren’t all down yet, so there’s that to do in a week or so, but now we can just look forward to the season’s concert tickets, fall football, our new TV which is set to arrive sometime before Christmas. In the living room! Yes! We may soon be able to watch a movie AND have a fire on the hearth.

Allison has taken the reins on our Thanksgiving plans (everyone should have an Allison, for many reasons) and has secured a VRBO in Corvallis where all the extended family can gather for the holiday. I have been assigned pie duty, will be expected to provide the cranberry sauce and order the turkey in a timely fashion. Larry and I will not be spending nights at the VRBO, so everyone can have time and space alone if desired. We did just learn that Mrytle’s old-fashioned electric turkey roaster is out in the shed. Mrytle was Larry’s mom, if you don’t know. And don’t worry, we’ll make sure there’s Jimmy Dean sausage in the stuffing.

But before that, we’ll be heading to Altadena for Peter’s birthday celebration on the 23rd. Yes, we’re going to fly. It’s only 2 hours. I know, but he is my first-born, dearly beloved, and of course we will be there. Man up, Jane. I am.

Thought I’d end with a couple of photos. Fall at the farm. Don’t forget to set your clocks back tonight! 👍🏻😊.