Fall has fallen

Spring came and went, summer has come and gone, and fall has tumbled upon us. The methodical marching of time varies little.

Though we had a downpour of rain on one of the last evenings of summer, recorded as just short of four inches, the leaves have stuck well to their branches. Jack Frost is busy smearing the forests with multiple reds and yellows of colour.

These past few weeks have really been interesting ones for me. The fact is, I have been visited by many friends and readers, some of whom I have never met before. Some of whom have driven far more than an hour to get here. The beautiful weather we have had fits well with their visit, as I love to give them the 25-cent tour of the farm.

We usually start off by them meeting our house dog, Foxy. I usually assure them that she does not bite, but she may have swallowed the odd intruder whole, but Foxy’s smug smile and wagging tail tells me she is not talking.

From there, I usually introduce them to our pair of huskies, Hurricane and Spitfire. They are six-year-old neutered brothers that are housed in a large enclosure that, in addition to a fire hydrant for you-know-what, has a six-barrel exercise tower that allows them to climb through, in and out to a height that allows them to overlook the six-foot chainlink enclosure.

Incidentally, we are not able to give them total freedom, as they love to chase goats; for that reason, we are trying to find a good home for them. If you know of anyone interested in sled dogs, please let us know.

From there, I can usually take up the better part of an hour bragging a little while I show them my mass of singing canaries, my peacocks and the half dozen breeds of show bantams that I dicker around with.

Then it is off to show the new, post-hurricane barn that Stephen, our orange tabby barn cat, rules. It is here that the laying hens are housed and the seasonal meat chickens are raised. Also seasonally housed are the numerical three little pigs aptly named Freezer One, Freezer Two and Freezer Three.

Then it is off to see the flock of purebred Boer goats that we are becoming quite proud of. They are ruled by Oliver, who, judging by the smile in his eye and grin on his goateed chin, tells us we can expect more than a dozen sets of twins along about mid-March.

Our visit usually culminates at one of our local eateries where a gossipy two-hour lunch is dragged out by the discussion of long ago memories. I can think of no better way of spending a day than with longtime friends and acquaintances.

It is a beautiful time of year to take a drive up here through cattle country. If you want to see a couple of million hamburgers on the hoof, now is the time to do it.

Should you decide to come my way, give me a call and I’ll be sure to be home. I enjoy gabbing to old friends. If you catch me in a good mood, I may even buy you lunch.

Take care, ’cause we care.





Barrie Hopkins