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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/293ra2A:
From the second memory card, which for once I remembered about– the latter half of the visit to the farm and family. Featuring miscellaneous happenings– the erection of a huge grain bin with hillbilly engineering was a particular achievement on my brother-in-law’s part and occasioned many “erection” jokes– we all were pretty sure someone was gonna get killed doing this, so, it was kind of amazing and in the end a strap gave way and plopped the thing upright, so. It was terrifying, and pictures don’t do it justice.
My mother feeds birds religiously, and the kids figured out they could trap red squirrels and chipmunks with a string and a stick and a box. It was a trap-and-release program, though, so it was probably the same dang red squirrel every time. Those little buggers are cute; we never had them growing up because we had cats, but my folks are down to one part-time feral now, so the rodentia have become ascendant.
The gun photo is my father with his Rev War flint-lock musket, which makes a satisfying racket and suitably impresses the small children. I did not fire it because I had to escort a small child back to the house, who was a little Too impressed.
Farm Baby is lounging in the pop-up camper, which they set up for the occasion of the bonfire. She loved it and would enjoy it if her family would sleep there always, please. She began to refer to it as “home” during the like, eighteen hours it was set up. “Tin we go home? Pwease?”
The wide-angle landscape photo is from the top bed of the garden, looking down at my sister picking flowers and the white thing in the distance slightly right of center is the ger by the path. So you can see, if there’s blood sprinkled around the garden, how something might wind up quite close to the yurt checking it out. On the other hand, maybe the chupacabras will keep the deer out.
From the second memory card, which for once I remembered about– the latter half of the visit to the farm and family. Featuring miscellaneous happenings– the erection of a huge grain bin with hillbilly engineering was a particular achievement on my brother-in-law’s part and occasioned many “erection” jokes– we all were pretty sure someone was gonna get killed doing this, so, it was kind of amazing and in the end a strap gave way and plopped the thing upright, so. It was terrifying, and pictures don’t do it justice.
My mother feeds birds religiously, and the kids figured out they could trap red squirrels and chipmunks with a string and a stick and a box. It was a trap-and-release program, though, so it was probably the same dang red squirrel every time. Those little buggers are cute; we never had them growing up because we had cats, but my folks are down to one part-time feral now, so the rodentia have become ascendant.
The gun photo is my father with his Rev War flint-lock musket, which makes a satisfying racket and suitably impresses the small children. I did not fire it because I had to escort a small child back to the house, who was a little Too impressed.
Farm Baby is lounging in the pop-up camper, which they set up for the occasion of the bonfire. She loved it and would enjoy it if her family would sleep there always, please. She began to refer to it as “home” during the like, eighteen hours it was set up. “Tin we go home? Pwease?”
The wide-angle landscape photo is from the top bed of the garden, looking down at my sister picking flowers and the white thing in the distance slightly right of center is the ger by the path. So you can see, if there’s blood sprinkled around the garden, how something might wind up quite close to the yurt checking it out. On the other hand, maybe the chupacabras will keep the deer out.
