Ketchup

Not many words tonight. My fingers are cold. (The fact that the computer is in the coldest room in the house might complicate things this winter. Either that or simplify.) Plenty of pictures, though, of the little moments I get to live.

Who needs a sister when you have Skeeter?

He insisted that queen anne's lace was blowable like dandelion.  I am ashamed to say, I didn't correct him, he was so stinkin' cute blowing his little lungs out.

History comes alive-

And battles in the schoolroom.

And there is Mattie.  Doing what he always does.  Work, work, work, work, work.

Cookie making in the Newman household is assembly line.

 
Last weekends' project: cleaning up the remnant of the fallen Middle Barn.

If my feet weren't boats, I might consider cleaning that shoe up.  It was CU-UTE. 

 It was exhausting.  Apparently.

This boy simply DOES.NOT. fall asleep randomly.  And yet- he did.  First, and probably last time.  AFTER (if you notice) he skeefed a banana.  Stinker.