Well, maybe we should have turned that way. Peg! Leave the hat! Next time, I read the map. Maybe Leslie will let us use the GPS next time. Oh Niko. Cheer up, we'll be home for treats.
Snraaarrppphhh. Grrrrooooooooowwwwwwwwllllllll. Yelp! Rrrrrrrrrrrrooooowwwwwffff!
At dusk I went out to pick greens. There was enough light left to be able to see who was what, and I harvested Arugula, young Borage, Chard, three good sized tomatoes (!), and found three more beautiful, Sweet Meat Squash. So, in the oven is a squash cut in quarters, baking at 4oo. The house filling with aromatic, yummy scents. The greens could be a bouquet, but unmercifully, I am putting them into a salad.
While I was moseying around I could hear the hens pushing and shoving and clucking for the best roosting place. Is it possible that there is only one best place? One pretty brown egg a day must mean you get the best place, right?
The fig tree is looking droopy. The frost has touched it, and it just quivers its leaves off. Tomorrow will be the Day of Falling Fig Leaves. Maybe tonight if the wind comes up like it has for the past few nights.
Dogs. Good dogs and bad dogs. Dogs that sleep so cuddly on my bed (a mid-afternoon nap today!). Dogs that sound like horror-movie monsters, well, make that one dog: Luna has developed the most nasty sounding growlsnarf I've ever heard. It is a sound especially designed to communicate with blockhead puppies, one Emerson in particular. Seriously, it amazes me he still has a face.
Emerson chewed completely through the cord to the fan, fortunately unplugged. He spit out little pieces of cord. Imagine the Christmas Tree lights. Oh, yes. He and I are going to puppy class, he has already initiated the facility with a gallon-pee. We are busy doing our 'homework,' which is such good reminder to all-ways be aware with what we say and do with the dogs!
Yes. Life is fun. And I am very grateful, filled-up.
I love you!