Even if I've been away only nine or ten days, there is always an element of surprise when I return: things change.
First, farmette life:
The garden is fully autumnal.
Notice the two girls? Only two now. Scotch died when I was gone.
Scotch was the last of the original group of hens that came to us "on loan" more than four years ago. As Ed said -- she had a great life: she moved from being shy and put in her place by the other hens, to being leader of the pack, turning into quite the bad girl toward Java and Henny. But in the last months she mellowed.
I could see that she was fading. Before I left, she would spend long hours "sunbathing." I sang her lullabies. Java hovered protectively. Finally, age crept up on her and she just never woke up.
Ed talks of adding a hen, but it's not easy to do this just before winter. We're reviewing our options.
Other changes:
The grocery store re-did its bakery section.
I went shopping early. You know how it is on this leg of time adjustment: you get up before dawn for a few days. And so I shopped for food, going only on a shot of espresso with milk ("noisette")...
... so that I could have a full lovely breakfast with Ed later.
We walked in our local county park afterwards and here, too, autumn has taken hold.
(Oh! These cranes haven't left yet!)
It is a gorgeous day and Ed led me to the spot where, over the weekend, he'd found some turtles sunbathing on logs.
(The turtles and their pond.)
And finally (and by no means is this a small thing for me) there is Snowdrop.
Her vocabulary grew by leaps and bounds in these last days. It always shocks me when I see her after a small break.
You'll see she is without a sweater. It was cool, so I offered her one. No thanks, grandma.
(On the park beach...)
At the farmette, she is overjoyed with her special gift.
She doesn't have a toy baby bottle. She settles for welcoming the new baby with her very best ice cream cone.
One last picture: of Snowdrop's happy smile for the wreath from Castelnou.
Going away can be tough. But the coming back -- ah, the coming back! Sublime!
First, farmette life:
The garden is fully autumnal.
Notice the two girls? Only two now. Scotch died when I was gone.
Scotch was the last of the original group of hens that came to us "on loan" more than four years ago. As Ed said -- she had a great life: she moved from being shy and put in her place by the other hens, to being leader of the pack, turning into quite the bad girl toward Java and Henny. But in the last months she mellowed.
I could see that she was fading. Before I left, she would spend long hours "sunbathing." I sang her lullabies. Java hovered protectively. Finally, age crept up on her and she just never woke up.
Ed talks of adding a hen, but it's not easy to do this just before winter. We're reviewing our options.
Other changes:
The grocery store re-did its bakery section.
I went shopping early. You know how it is on this leg of time adjustment: you get up before dawn for a few days. And so I shopped for food, going only on a shot of espresso with milk ("noisette")...
... so that I could have a full lovely breakfast with Ed later.
We walked in our local county park afterwards and here, too, autumn has taken hold.
(Oh! These cranes haven't left yet!)
It is a gorgeous day and Ed led me to the spot where, over the weekend, he'd found some turtles sunbathing on logs.
(The turtles and their pond.)
And finally (and by no means is this a small thing for me) there is Snowdrop.
Her vocabulary grew by leaps and bounds in these last days. It always shocks me when I see her after a small break.
You'll see she is without a sweater. It was cool, so I offered her one. No thanks, grandma.
(On the park beach...)
At the farmette, she is overjoyed with her special gift.
She doesn't have a toy baby bottle. She settles for welcoming the new baby with her very best ice cream cone.
One last picture: of Snowdrop's happy smile for the wreath from Castelnou.
Going away can be tough. But the coming back -- ah, the coming back! Sublime!
