We had a maple syrup breakfast, enjoying the syrup from our own tree. Sarah and Ryan brought Brutus. Joel and Steph brought Simon. While we ate the two pouches guarded the door.
With the sky cloudless, I took off for the hinterlands in search of the perfect meetinghouse. The next production at work requires new visuals for the CD and liner notes.
Two Monterey grade-schoolers take the pinto pony on a spin Saturday afternoon. Is it a pinto? I don't know. Made me think of one of the first pop songs I remember listening to, "Across the Alley from the Alamo," a 1947 song sung by the Mills Brothers. I would play the record on the sly at my Grandpa/ma Lehman's farmhouse in probably 1950.
The first day of spring and we burn down the brush pile beside the compost. With the f stop at 22 to get depth of field, see the horse manure heaped on the garden in the background, ready to be rototilled. The flame jumped from the brush to dead vines of the compost pile.