There's been a great deal of music going on. Practicing, rehearsals, late night lessons, competitions...
A trip to the petshop after a doctor's appointment. I offered Sophie a treat and this is what she chose (the trip, not the kitten).
For my part, I looked everywhere for a tiny talking turtle but it was these two who spoke volumes without uttering a word.
This is a little game I like to call chase.
Was I being chased? Yes.
By the darkness.
You should have seen me go, dear reader. No stopping to follow butterflies this time around. No checking for tadpoles. No contemplative moods. I ran as if the raw, bleak fingers of night were reaching for my neck--reaching, scratching, not quite able to grab hold. I ran ahead of the shadows lapping at my heels with cold, sandpaper tongues. I flew over rocks, brambles, and thorns. I stumbled and fell. I lost my already tenuous grasp on reality, letting terror come for me like a pack of wolves. I heard a sound from deep within rise up like a child's cry and still I ran on.
Mind you, I did stop briefly to take this picture.
This one, too.
But after that I ran with the speed and desperation of a wild-eyed rabbit.
It's fun to play when you are having lots of friends over for dinner.
Never underestimate the power of scullery maid to transform an otherwise mundane task into a deliciously tragic one of epic proportion.
I made this scullery maid set the table. The only problem is she likes setting the table. She simply adores it.
Oh well. There are plenty of instances wherein she plays a perfect game of scullery maid. A breathtakingly perfect game.
Like when it's time to clean her room. Or clean her room.
But enough about us, dear reader. What have you been up to lately?