snapshots

This is Tiger. Dan calls him"Soup", I guess in keeping with the food names we have for the other cats, "Orange Juice", "Blueberry"....He showed up on our farm right after we moved in, sneaking in meals with our other kittens. No one has made contact with yet, except for Emma. But he's getting braver and braver, now even coming up to the porch to sleep on the cushions. Lately, he's been sitting outside the kitchen window on a bench. It's right outside where I sit at the kitchen table, writing, cooking. Yesterday, after much contemplation, Tiger and I made contact. A little crab dip on my finger didn't hurt things either.

What we do with the leftover cardboard. I can't tell you how much entertainment this provided. Simple joys.

Trying to do something with the abundance of unknown pears growing in the orchard in the back corner or our farm. They are tough-skinned and hard as rocks. I cored and peeled them, then stewed them in a simple sugar syrup, thanks to some help from The Joy of Cooking. Much better now.

Moments before Emma's pony decided to throw his head forward, again, sending Emma flipping over his head and flopping on to the ground. My friend, Sarah, whose daughter rides in the same lesson, said it was good I didn't see it. Emma tried hard not to cry, but by the time she got back on, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Of course I wanted to jump in there and check on her and rescue her, but I didn't. She went on the trail ride, came back on a different pony, but came back happy. She's a tough little girl.

The swing. The big swing.

Happy Weekend, friends.