Got Mud?

It's been raining. For four days now. The BMX track is a mud-fest. Mud bombs, mud slides, mud runs. Muddy laundry. It was too much fun to put a halt to, so while Chris made some redwood planter boxes for the garden, the boys slid down the jumps on the track. The moment they stopped though, the cold took over and Max felt his tragic condition to the bone. The hot shower they both took was a curative measure for the cold and the mud. That's a white shirt Coleman has on.


This is a crane fly on a fig leaf. Fig leaves are big, crane flies are big. You can't really tell from the picture what the scale is. But trust me.


A flower survived Max's wrath. He's taken to cutting down just about anything that looks like it might bloom. Or maybe he just likes to cut things down, regardless of bloom or bud.


Pear petals have fallen and baby pears have formed on the ends of stems that seem too delicate to hold their final weight. What an amazing process this is to watch in progress.


Apple blossoms petals are just beginning to rain down. It looks like we'll have a big crop of apples this year.


Here's the new BMX track in progress. It's rained quite a bit since this picture was taken. Right now we've got some major puddles going. This is where the boys went swimming in the mud (pictured above).


Ginger Kitty has found it more difficult to socialize with the neighborhood pooches these last few days. Our next door neighbor put up a fence between our driveways (a short length of it) and a gate for our yard. This gate is what keeps G. Kitty from wandering the neighborhood; most days. Just this afternoon, however, our neighbor, Casey brought her home after she went seeking a play-date with his doberman. This fence and gate makes our immediate back yard seem much larger. And delightfully more private. I guess I'm not as social as I'd like to think. Many days I'd like to just trot into the back yard and sit by my imaginary vegetable garden with a cup of hot black coffee and listen to the birds and feel the sea breeze. Alas, I often find myself shoveling out from under a variety of piles of one sort or another.