Wilbur bares his teeth in mock savagery as his little sister,Willow, launches an attack.
Willow and Wilbur went to the vet clinic early on Friday morning for spay/neuter.
Here they are Thursday evening wrestling on the guest room bed just beyond my big desk.
They have been so rambunctious that I flung this old spread over the bed to protect one of my nice quilts.
Needless to say W. and W. didn't do any playing on Friday evening. They tottered about, collapsing groggily every few minutes. I didn't allow them the run of the house for fear they would
tumble down the basement stairs.
By Saturday morning they were perkier and interested in breakfast.
I had 'vouchers' for the surgical procedures--both because we qualify as 'senior citizens' [aarrgh!] and because I had donated to the animal shelter.
I requested that their innoculations be done while they were at the clinic--its a good thing I was leaning against a counter when the bill was presented for that!
Please--no more stray cats for a bit!
G. and I worked most of Wednesday to 'put up' the tomatoes she purchased at the Mennonite produce stand. There are 40 quarts in the line-up here--the remaining 8 quarts were done on Thursday.
G. found this 'parsley worm' as she was harvesting parsley. When she touched it, out came those
tiny orange 'horns.'
Looking at this side view of the creatures 'legs' its easy to understand why some bulldozers
have the brand name of "Caterpillar."
Its a rare morning that doesn't reward me for the effort of going outdoors first thing. Once I have creaked my way into an assortment of warm old clothes and pulled on my wellies, there is a sense of praise for yet another day to go about the simple chores of feeding the barn cats and scooping grain for Pebbles [who assures me in trumpeting tones that she is about to starve.]
Saturday morning was mild, misty and very beautiful.
The wide-angle photo of the yard and the mist over Big Creek Valley was taken standing on the still-shaded path to the hay barn.
I was whisking through tall pasture grass [returning from the cat litter dump near the tree line] as the sun struck the back field and the cold mist began to melt and glimmer on every blade of grass and on the dozens of spider webs.
I tried close ups, macro settings and distance shots attempting to capture the sparkle of dew on these fuzzy seedheads. None of the photos do justice to the reality.
I zig-zagged through the fine guy wires of stretched spider silk, noting how quickly white mist melted into clear droplets of water as the sun advanced.
A clump of wild 'frost asters' bends low in the rough grass beyond the grape arbor.
Naturalized morning glory grows in lax tangles behind the woodshed and
invades the gardens, grasping and climbing its way up the stalks of sturdier plants.
7: 45 a.m. and the mist swiftly dissolving into a million minute splatters of wet.
Faithful Willis has made the rounds with me, flattening himself in dew-soaked clumps of grass,
then launching himself at my boots as I swish through the grass.
Here D. has just driven in on his way to work a 14 hour day at a neighbor's house-renovating project.
Willis adores D.--in fact he prefers the company of the men of the family over mine.
He flung himself at D. who makes a great fuss over him.
D. was shortly on his way and Willis sought the sun-warmed comfort of the front porch to dry his sopping feet.