One evening we left all the work inside, grabbed the camera, and raced outside to have some fun before the sun slid behind the western mountains.
Mr. Fat Squishy and I . . .
. . . we found the cat trying to hide in the barn.
Ten feet tall and bullet-proof!
Mr. Fat Squishy was getting tired.
An old homestead is great for pictures.
The hay barn is not so good for my freshly-mopped floors.
Waiting for our little chicks to arrive.
One more picture, Mr. Fat Squishy . . .