Heading Into the Fields, Not

A view from my office window.

            Charlotte said (believe me I can translate, she's not subtle), "let's go frolicking in the fields like we did yesterday." Of course I'm paraphrasing. We had a grand time in the snow and today there are many inches more and looking out the window as I type the fat flakes continue to fall.

          "OK, OK," I told her, "just let me zip up my boots, and find a hat." Yesterday I didn't need a hat, today I do. While I fussed about Charlotte continued to "talk" to me and jump around to display the urgency in her request.

Charlotte, patiently waiting for me near the gate.

          We headed out the front door, Charlotte in the lead dashing toward the gate -- she always seems to fear the gate might have been moved during the night or I might forget where it was since the last time we exited by that route. I opened the gate, she darted out, turning right toward the fields and then she heard them: gun shots. Hunters in the fields. She spun around, gaining traction and raced back into the garden.

          Charlotte hates guns. She also hates fireworks, anything that goes "bang!". As always, she was quaking with fear and we had to have a long hug before we decided it would be just as much fun playing in the garden.

          Hmmm, next week? Excellent question. Every day you will have something to entertain you in this space, but maybe not every day from me because we're in the midst of last minute decisions about illustrations for the book and deadlines are looming. I may even have a major surprise for you. . .

        Until tomorrow then, Charlotte and I are heading out again.

        I hope you're having a lovely, peaceful Sunday. Thank you for visiting, thank you for commenting, thank you for following, thank you for bringing so much joy into my life.