Photojournalism

A very strong storm came through here last night.  "Strong" as in "Madeleine hid in a kitchen cabinet."  When I went out this morning, I saw that the wren nest had been blown off the porch bench.  Stepping to the edge of the porch to look for it, I saw nothing.  Except that one little egg laying behind the bench, uncracked, untouched. It would seem that that egg and I are supposed to be friends.

Kathy hosted a swap recently, and I partook.  We were to send yarn for one pair of socks

 a button, and something red, white and blue.

Thank you, Teresa, for my things!  Teresa made the necklace herself.  Thanks, Kathy, for the chance to make new friends.

Closets are being cleared out here, mostly so I can feel productive, but also to separate unneeded stuff from things still in use and things not in use, from things that will go with me when[ever] I move. In one of the closets, I found this:

It's from Hannah's senior portrait photo session.  Rupert was hers when he first came to us, and she wanted him in the pictures.  I always talk about how photogenic she is, but cameras are pretty good to Rupert,too!