More than the date on the calendar, a stoveful of soup proclaims that winter is coming.  Three kinds of soup in three days = a good lunch of leftovers.

Here's a wee, fat baby.

Heidi brought ten tons of delicious food one fine day, and we soaked up the good company of the mighty King clan, minus the Squirrel, while Flora displayed both her prowess with babies and her laudable ability to ignore the annoying boys flanking her.


Another sign that winter is coming is that John arrives home with fistfuls of color.

It's true!  Winter is coming, which means tea for EVERYONE in the morning.

Here's a sweet, fat baby, even though baby acne makes her grumpy.

Maybe too many kisses are making her grumpy...

Foraging for apples!

Foraging for carrots!

It's a math tea party!  As Piper said, "It actually makes math kind of fun." (Only kind of because the bigger girls were doing their schoolwork on the roof that day, and tea-party math is the clear consolation prize.)

Oh, Ezekiel.  Surrounded by girls who either knit and crochet or want to knit and crochet, he conned Grandma into teaching him beginning crochet on Thanksgiving night.  The next evening, there he sat, furrowed brow and baby in lap, trying his darndest to get it right.

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