My Little Herbivore

One redeeming quality about our home is the leaves. I've only raked one time, because I thought the neighbors might come after us with pitch forks, but really I love have a splatter of yellow, orange, and red on our walk way and yard.

Today I let Pippa play in the leaves long enough to get dirt on all her white clothing. As you'll see in the photos, she blissfully ignored her mama in favor of munching on some brilliant leaves. Maybe the various colors taste different.

This is sooo not the basement.

Mom's really leaving me here. Alone?!

Yay!

This leaf looks a little big for one bite. I'll have to minimize it.

That's better. No one here to stop me.

Tastes a little earthy and bitter mom, kinda like that oatmeal you gave me.

I refuse to be incriminated by these phot....was that a chipmunk?

Leaves tear just like magazine pages.

Dad would get a kick out of this. Where is he?

Oh well. More for me!

Midwest Ghosts

We've been driving and driving and driving. Sure we stayed with friends and family along the way, but the point in this post is the driving and more driving and the wrong turns at the end of our journey (I should not ever be leader). It was the wrong roads, the road food, the creepy truck stops, swollen eyes and gypsy lifestyle that had me on edge. What pushed me over was a scene that could be found in Amityville Horror.

A charming farmhouse near Peoria, Illinois, my new home, looked warm and inviting. The spiders also thought so and decided to move from the newly spun webs on the patio to the bathtub and kitchen. Welcome! or not. As I sat on the toilet I couldn't avoid the eye-level hint scrawled into the wall   LEAVE.

Right. Can do. Can't go. Creepy tree shadows everywhere. Spiders falling on my head. Black cats and bats and a witch cackle drifting in the wind. Spooky!