Saturday, September 3, 2011
The evenings are crisp, leaves threaten to burst into the brilliant reds and oranges that so many travel here to appreciate. We have a sugar maple just outside our living room bay window that is the bell-ringer every year along with the tall oaks that pound out the shortening days with their acorn percussion.
There's a batch of tomato sauce waiting on the stove top to be milled and canned. A half bushel of apples is next in line to sauce. Every morning I pick a quart of fall raspberries with our baby napping on my back. The goats are, at the same time, at ease that the biting insects have subsided and anxious about the cool mornings as they've begun to come into heat. The meat chickens are also living one day at a time. They have grown especially fast this year and will be harvested earlier than planned.
We foraged enough wild grapes to try a first small batch of wine. Soon our local orchard will begin to press cider, which I buy in 5 gal lots for fermentation into apple wine. Nothing says autumn like fresh homebrew.