I think it’s fall. The calendar says so. Our trees that “turn” are turning lovely shades of red and gold. I see these leaves falling from the window as I grab my purse to pick up the kids and think how it’s fall, my favorite season, and then walk outside and am bowled over by a wave of heat. I’m usually a fan on Indian Summer, but enough already! I have a couple of butternut squash idle on the kitchen table, reminding me that I ought to be making soup, but it’s too hot. Ugh. But there are hints of autumn crisp early in the morning (since all the windows were left open to combat our lack of air conditioning when we go to bed), and when we walk out to lock up the goats in the evening. They hover around the gate and cry for us earlier and earlier now that it’s getting dark a little earlier. Their milk is dwindling, we’re watching to see who goes into heat first because hot days or not, it’s already time to start thinking about our breeding plan for next year. How is that possible? We've a wall full of soaps curing for the November holiday shows we're doing so I'm hoping that by then it will finally feel like fall. I also hope you’re able to enjoy some of your autumn traditions during this Indian Summer. If anything, all this talk about Indian Summer reminded me of one of my favorite songs when I was in college 100 years ago. Here it is. Enjoy!