weekends were made for play

It’s midday and I have just a few minutes to share some fun from the past three days.

Of course, if you want the New York Times version replete with gorgeous photos, you’ll want to visit my neighbor, she of the 36-hour city guides.

Friday I took the brombies up to the farm for a walkabout cause oh my, doogiehowza, have we been having some kind of lovely warm weather. And– lucky for us– it has stretched right into today. Yes. This little blog will serve as historical documentation of global warming in the years ahead as in the middle of November, high up on the Eastern seaboard we had nothing but blue skies and warm breezes for four days in a row. So when the scientists (all breathing rarefied oxygen through their masks, sitting with a view out onto the post-apocalyptic landscape) shake their heads and say, ‘what were these people thinking?’

Um, were we thinking ‘wow, roses still blooming in November and I am barefoot– hell yes?’ Quite possibly.

No, not really. I am not about my needs versus the well-being of mankind. As if.

Here, allow me to distract you with photos from our Sunday breakfast that Christine mentioned– such a lovely little housewarming chez moi with Christine, Kayte and Sarah.
Rounded out with a fellowship of cakes, biscotti, scones, blackberry jam and some gorgeous fresh honey (thanks to Amanda!)

photos above by Christine Chitnis
So we’re sitting there Sunday noshing and chatting, telling Sarah about where we went the day before and how cool the Nature lab was and I say something like, ‘I really love that kind of thing, you know shells, feathers, bones and such.” And, in unison the three of them look over at my window filled with the stash of bits I pick up on my walks, my own personal nature lab as it were, and I can hear the silent, “really? Gosh, no kidding.”

photo above by Christine Chitnis