Again, I canned.
18 + 24 pints.
All the apples are done.
Was gonna make banana bread to freeze too,
We did harvest corn, that I will freeze.
And transplant our pumpkins.
Tomorrow, she and I will run errands in town.
Heck, maybe we'll all go.
Or maybe not.
She's dying for books.
So, we'll hit the library, too.
She loves her chickens.
Kisses them on top the head, strokes their feathers
while she talks quietly to them.
This's one of her favorites.
But she's a spry ol' girl.
She can't be caught.