Flash Back Monday -- A Work In Progress

Way back in 2016 our Field was a brand new baby full of weeds and brush and chain link fences and more weeds and people who hugged eachother . . . how weird.

I thought it would be fun to have a Look Back.

Happy Memorial Day!

MONDAY, MAY 23, 2016

Field Work

Having a Field can be hard work.

And Mistah has risen to the task.

He's always out there raking and chopping and lopping and clearing.

And voilà, a new hole in the fence.

I get into the act, too. See all that brush?

Cleared it right out.

And then the best part? One gets to admire one's work.

(Why yes, we are still wearing hats in late May.)

Speaking of late May, it's Iri Season around here.

But anyway, back to The Field.

The other best part is sending Mistah out into it with his camera.

I can't get enough of the view of the back of our house 800 miles away.

The worm's eye view.

Mistah and Frankie have taken to Frisbee Frolicking in The Field.

And sometimes we like to have photo sessions on the Weed Tree Trunk:

(Remind me to tell you about that weird house in the background. Seriously.)

But then, always, it's back to work . . .

. . . A Work In Progress.

The Art of the Pour

Here's the thing about a global pandemic and self-isolating.

Friends are great and food is great and Fielding is great and flowers are great -- oh, the flowers -- and walking is great and cleaning is okay and reading is superiorly great . . .

. . . but do you know what else is supremely great? Drinkie-poos.

I enjoy myself a delicious drinkie-poo at the end of -- okay, at the end of the late afternoon of -- a day in the covid fields.

Why wouldn't I?

Sometimes I have a Mistah to join . . .

. . . that's always my hope . . .

. . .  but it usually begins with drinkie-poo-for-one.

(And it's usually not a margie but hey, it was the weekend. As evinced by my weed wacker wack job.)

But the thing about Mistah?

He crafts his beverages and then he crafts his photos . . .

. . . he's an arteest . . .

. . . See?!

And I am forever grateful.

For Mistah's artistry . . .

  . . . and for this week's incredible purple irises . . .

 . . . and for wine.

Mom

We had the great good fortune to be able to drive down to Mom's to social-distance-visit and bring bruncheon and share a bottle or two of bubbly and not hug yesterday . . .

Happy Mother's Day, Mom!

We're starting to get this bruncheon-in-the-driveway-thing down . . .

. . . but not-hugging is hard work.

And doesn't Mom look gorgeous? Who rocks a red leather jacket better than Mom?

Nobody, that's who.

When we finished bruncheon and finished the tiny tasks Mom had for us to do, we had one more tiny task of our own to preform . . .

. . . Mistah and I got to deliver a present from all of the Corey sisters to Mom . . .

. . . Mom was awestruck.

. . . and there may or may not have been a few tears . . .

. . . but I'm pretty sure she's pretty happy about her new laptop.

You deserve it, Mom, because you're the very best.

We love you.

Visitation Nation

There was no hugging, but there was a whole lot of social-distance visiting on a spectacular weekend.

There were these long and lean cuties . . .

. . . who biked to the beach both weekend days.

Bye, guys! Thanks for stopping by!

There was this fella, lurking in the background . . .

Huh. I really should change out of my Field clothes when visitors visit . . .

There was our favorite Freighbor Family, and yes the camera was on double-exposure . . .

. . . so really it was like having six of them visit.

Just the way we like it.

And there was this little doll-face . . .

. . . isn't she the cutest?

Her life going to dramatically change in a few months.
Enjoy being an only child while it lasts, honey!

And there was, of course, The Field . . .

. . . and we were proud to be its Visitors . . .

. . . and we are forever grateful for that.

And me? Well, I was Lord Muck, as my father-in-law used to say.

Lording over it all.