The drive way needed a good sweeping' before the candy gathering could begin.

  Halloween 2011.  My Little Witch.  You remembered just what to say, and used your manners.  It didn't take long to fill your bucket with treats.  You came back to Bebe's where you were such a big help.  It was adorable to watch you take candy from the basket, and place it other children's buckets.  That is, until the scary zombie showed up.  You did an about-face and booked it down Bebe's hallway. You even told one trick-or-treater, "oooooo, scary!"  You where tired.  "Momma, I wanna go home."  So, we did.

Two years old.  Two, y'all.

Two.

  If it wasn't for the drought, I would have thrown the orange peel and half eaten apple in the trash.  I know the deer outside our back porch would much appreciate the scraps, so I opened the door and left her standing behind the screen.

  There was movement.  A very delicate movement.  She looked through the screen and saw them by the hundreds.  It was the quietest loud I've ever heard.  

  Took this baby to Virginia where I was greeted with everything I ever held true about Fall.  A real, actual, cloudy, crisp, East Coast Autumn.  

  She fell in love with the animals.  Her Daddy laughed at the thought of paying to feed the tame goats.  As if we don't do enough of this at home already.  I could very easily make my home in the Shenandoah Valley.

Yesterday

 

  Nothing came of the below photo.  It was perched just over our home and looked promising.  I was hopeful, but only a tiny rumble of thunder and the occasional flash of pink lights trapped within illuminated the head.  It is hard not to feel like one is being punished during such extreme times.  I choose to not feel punished, but hopeful.  As a good friend said, "Every passing day brings us closer to the day it will rain."

  Amen.

  My Baby.  She has every reason to be exhausted.  It's hard work chasing animals, putting kitchen utensils in the toilet, dancing on tippy toes, greeting customers in the gift shop, and humming the William Tell Overture.  I love you.

Love,

Shalayne