Views down the hill, and Christmas at Sam's house

I'm really glad my land faces south. I have beautiful views, even while doing distasteful chores. Such as carrying firewood up the hill. Manually. By myself. Since a certain silly goober of a dog hurt her shoulder bouncing around in the woods at much faster than is prudent after a fresh snow.

This is the sun at around 1 p.m. There's just a bit, but on my hill I get all that there is.


Moving westward, and now peeking from behind my outhouse:


"I'm a goober. I hurt myself, and now my mama has to haul the firewood herself."


"Woe is me. I'm not sure why I look depressed, but I always do when I am indoors."


"I get all the veggies now, and nobody humps me. Life is good."


Huskyballs come in four sizes. I have one small and one medium.


Here are some photos from Christmas at Sam's house.

"We'll pose nicely for you... but... we think..."


"... we smell something from over there..."


"TURKEY!!!!"


"Where do we line up?"


"Our best side"


"Let's maul Uncle Dan!"


Dave and Agatha's oven. It's the latch I love.


A closeup of the dial for you. Dave informed me that his sharpie marks had rubbed off and that the dial is due to be renumbered.


"Oooohhhh... are we full!"


This is Sam's cat, Berenices:


Berenices is very shy. Although I'm at Sam's house pretty frequently, I only see Berenices maybe twice a year. I once had forgotten she existed when she came sauntering in the room. I jumped up. "Whoa! A cat!"