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A few more pictures from my visit to my family’s farm before I headed to Myrtle Beach with Erik’s family.

Our family has cows now.  They are cute and look like oreo cookies.

A proper sunset ensued. 


This place looks so pretty in the evening.


We went out with my dad to help him move his tree stand to a different tree which, he claimed, would have a much better vantage point for taking out hapless deer for our supper. Dad takes well to rural life.

While he and the boys did the heavy lifting, I wandered around the fields and took pictures of flowers.  Not that I’m conforming to any sort of female stereotype or anything.

I thought I was being all artsy and cool, but I realized that my pictures look curiously similar to standard desktop backgrounds.  I guess that could be a career option…

My brother Timothy hates being photographed.  So I photograph him frequently just to make him twitch.

Occasionally, though, he rises to the occasion.




The tree stand was successfully moved and Dad climbed up to make sure the view was good.  If it hadn’t been, I don’t think he would have had any volunteers to help move it back…  Luckily, he approved.


We did too.

It was a good visit to the farm.  Things are always growing and changing there.  I never know what to expect. 

It was a dramatic shift to drive from rural Virginia down to Myrtle Beach in South Carolina.  From cows in fields to palm trees and beaches.  We got there late, but went down to say hello to the ocean.  I haven’t seen it from this side in a while.

It was a bit stormy, but I like stormy shots.

The clouds gathering in the distance were flickering with lightning, so we had to leave, but I noticed that one thunderhead had formed an eerily familiar shape…

I swear that thing looks like one of those Furby dolls.  With one ear. Creepy.

We walked along the boardwalk and happened to arrive in time for fireworks.  We got ice cream too.  It was one of those perfect summer evenings.

When we were in the ice cream shop, I realized that the girl behind the counter had a very familiar accent.  It almost sounded more familiar to me than all the American ones around me.  She was from Ireland, about to head back.  We shared our love for the heat and sunshine and commiserated her on her nearing return to the cold, gloomy land across the sea.

This week’s project is moving into my new townhouse.  The house is a barely controlled chaos of boxes and half arranged rooms.  I have been reunited with my furry menace of a bunny and purchased two very tiny, very hilarious hamsters.  But more on that later.