Leftovers

Because my motto is "No snapshot left behind."

The Real Deal.  Early morning poofball-heads in front; bedroom laundry-stacking behind.

Some of the happy tomato babies too long ago to remember now.  Most grew nice and tall indoors, and then a third died outside, defeated by monsoons and clay.

I must have taken this when a bowlful of fresh eggs was still a springtime wonder.

You may not have known I have twin boys.

Now you do.

Ah, for the sake of those departed lilacs.  

I don't know why Zeke dominates this leftovers post.  Likely reason?  No one else washes the dining room table quite as reasonably.

Let's cap things off with more Zeke, shall we?

On my dirty garden legs, in a hammock...