Not the Usual Autumn Day

Autumn days are steadfast and purposeful. The last of the outside work is getting finished. Put the gardens to bed, move some maple saplings, winterize the chicken coop, preserve the last lingering pumpkins. A feeling of satisfaction follows me as I catch up to the straggling chores. Autumn is not fueled by the hyper rush of Spring and Summer. Autumn does not know their frantic pace. Nor does Autumn have their joy but it brings a feeling of accomplishment and steadiness that Spring and Summer have no use for. There's a comfort Autumn owns exclusively. I feel it every time I walk into the house and smell the juniper burning in my wood stove. The fire warms with gold and orange flames. Autumns' glow is most welcome inside the house. Most Autumn days are like that, then I have a day like yesterday...

It actually started the evening before when I went to pick up a Guinea fowl. Just a wee little thing that somehow hatched under a chicken. The only egg to hatch, the keet had little to no chance of survival especially since the hen wasn't interested in staying on the nest. I was asked to take the keet so I did. I got the little guy home, set him up in a plastic bin brooder with the heat lamp. He is no bigger than my thumb, but by his mouth, you'd never know it. Peep peep peep peep.

The next morning I woke up with an odd feeling. It was quiet...too quiet, no gentle hum of the fridge or any of those household noises that you don't notice until they fall silent. Then it hit me, I shot straight up in bed (not the smartest move when your bed is under a slanted attic roof). We had gotten a notice the week before that the electric company was cutting power between 1 - 7 AM and of course, I forgot all about it. My poor keet! I ran downstairs and the poor little thing was barely moving. I cupped him in my hands and held him close until the power came back - only two hours late. By then he was pretty perky. I, on the other hand was not.

That was the beginning of a very long day. The adventures continued in the afternoon. The chickens managed to dig out under the fence and happily meandered all over our place and the neighbours. Chickens don't herd well, and they won't negotiate. It took the kids and I quite a while to get them back into the pen. You know when you're on a long drive and somebody in car keeps asking "Are we there yet?" Well, by 3 o'clock, my little voice started with "Can I go to bed yet?".

Finally, night came and I was thankfully heading off to bed. Dusk wanted out one last time so I let him out in the pen and went to turn of the computer. The unmistakable odor of skunk wafted through the house. I went outside hoping it wasn't what I thought, but it was, Dusk got skunked. My night was extended by another 2 hours. Dusk hates baths and trying to convince a dog that weights more than I do to get into the tub is hopeless. I swear, that dog must have been a hippie in a past life; he's got the lay-down-in-a-heap-and-just-try-to-move-me protest move down pat. I finally got him in by wedging him between the tub and toilet and kept crowding him until he had to get into the tub or the potty. It was close, but he chose the tub. By that point, I didn't care where he chose to go, as long as he got wet. I washed him in a pretty effective solution of hydrogen peroxide, dish detergent and baking soda. It did cut the smell to a bearable level.

So the day that started at 6 AM ended at 1 AM the following day. Not a typical Autumn day, but one that will linger in my memory for a long time.