The view out our front door:
Leaves that I should probably rake up or mow over, but why the heck should I? They're just too pretty.
The view when I wake Cade up from naptime:
The view of our kitchen today:
Both the boys are now sick with whatever gunk Adelaide had, and they'll play with their usual vigor and energy until they collapse. Then they'll play again, hunting for bad guys or fighting dust motes, then collapse. Then draw and color in treasure maps to roll up and tuck into their belts, then collapse, because evidently even coloring will drain it right out of you when you're sick. I keep finding them lying in odd places around the house and yard. It's somewhat disconcerting.
The view of me most mornings at home:
The morning after the half marathon, I was tidying up around the house, mostly trying to keep moving so my entire body didn't stiffen up and go all Petrificus Totalus on me when Caedmon asked me to kneel down to his level. With great solemnity, he placed my finisher's medal from the race around my neck, then went back to playing. I wore it for the next couple hours over my jammies while getting household stuff done- I mean, I already had it on, okay, and I wouldn't dare risk offending our youngest child, and it did lend a certain air of accomplishment to my highly important dusting of the blinds and reading of the picture books. Cade, for his part, was tickled I'd left it on, and we've gone through a makeshift awards ceremony almost every morning since.
The view of my garden's last offerings of the season:
Gourds. Gourds coming out of my ears. I had already foisted at least half of them upon unsuspecting friends, and this is what I'm left with, plus a few more I just found hiding among the weeds a couple days ago. I ended up dumping most of them on the front porch, because Lord knows I needed some kind of color on there, what with the demon squirrels constantly uprooting all the ornamental kale I tried growing in my containers. THERE ARE NO NUTS IN MY FLOWER POTS, SQUIRRELS. TAKE YOUR DIRTY PAWS ELSEWHERE. YOU'RE RATS WITH FANCY TAILS. GOD REGRETS YOUR CREATION.
The view of our piano-top:
More late-season garden produce: Ornamental eggplant! Gracious. Remember when the lovelies in the above two photos were just tiny little egg carton sprouts?
They just grow so fast! *sob*