In which we celebrate the autumn seasonal markers on the farm

The garden is pretty much "put to bed" for the season, the Dragon is snugged up in her medium-weight blanket, the maple tree in the yard is denuding itself fast (and I am collecting the leaves for garden mulch), and also...

It's time to re-gravel the driveway!

If I were rich (and organized) I'd get gravel spread on the driveway every 6 months.  

We joke about starting a gravel-of-the-month club:  January's gravel is sand mixed with salt, March gravel is pea gravel for walkways, and October gravel is 5/8 minus for driveways and paddocks.  

Okay, it's not really a joke.  If anybody wants to give me a load of gravel every month, I'd be thrilled.

There's no such thing as too much gravel on a farm

Lest you think that gravel isn't a seasonal thing, I give you this:

I was 2 years old when "It's The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown" first aired, 
and it is definitely a major part of the season for me.

I'm not big on seasonal decorations these days.  I gave away most of my Hallowe'en stuff to a family with young kids, but yesterday I made this as part of a library program:

Needle-felted bat. 
If you haven't tried needle-felting, I recommend it:  stabbing stuff is very soothing.

Elsewhere, there are turkeys to be harvested.

The big 37-pound turkeys don't fit in the YardBird, but smaller birds do,
and it makes the task of plucking so much faster!

Jim has acquired all the knives and tools to make the job easier

And of course, there are always trails.

The Whitehorse Trail, east of Fortson Mills.

There's one super-important thing that happens this time of year.

Voting is the most important task this fall.  Jim and I voted and returned our ballots last week--
they have already been accepted and counted.  

...and finally, a story.  Not a scary story (my audience for this is special-needs middle school students), but a nice, happy Hallowe'en story.

Stay well, all y'all.