Holidays come and holidays go.

And some holidays aren’t really my own traditional holidays, but I like them anyway.

Working on our sugar skull decoration with a few friends.

 

Respect the real sugar skull artisans, and just give us credit for trying.

Then comes the late autumn, when we have scenes like this.

And later autumn, still, when we have this.

Giant chicken, stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, pumpkin pie, etc. to be added shortly after.

And now we are getting to the good stuff.

I bought this barn star at a tag sale before we had even made a deal on the house, because barn stars are important, yo.

In other news, I got a job. It seems like a real job so far, even though I’m not 100% certain of the name of the company I’m working at. But I do know the name of the guy I’m working for, and he did pay me, and I am doing work, so I’m calling it real. Seemed pretty sketchy at first, but now it only seems very marginally sketchy. The hours are good. I’d still like to work here and hopefully will someday, but I like where I am right now and what I’m doing.

Ohhh, and we did get those family additions a few weeks back, courtesy of Craigslist and a guy next town over who was just sick of them. Here they are — five molting Rhode Island Red hens. I admit, one of the five is already toast — taken by an unknown predator. We still let them roam during the day, but not all day long. At least not when there’s no one home. The other four are eating and drinking and crankin’ out eggs and scratching the hell out of all bark-covered and bare dirt areas they can find. I haven’t the heart to keep them in all the time, even if they might get taken by, well, pretty much any wild animal that lives in New England comes across our lot. So they’re in danger, yup. But they really like to roam, so I let them. They are very grumpy in their coop. Be free, chickens! They come back to their little henhouse at night, and I close them up safe. And Emerson is having fun rushing at them and scattering herding them. He is actually helpful if I want to put them in during the day. Those hens got no respect for me and occasionally no interest in the yummy scratch I offer, but they worry about Emerson, and do what he says.