It is raining babies in our pastures. The boys and I go out nearly every evening to survey the progress. I like to roll down the windows in the pickup so Kenyon can lean out and really get a good look at everything going on. He is so friendly with all the calves.
"Hi, my name is Kenyon. This is my brother John and this is my mama." He tells to each and every baby, regardless of whether or not they are paying attention. He then will turn towards me. "Uh, Mom, you can drive to the next baby calf now."
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| It's the EXTREMELY early stages of pasture burning. Huge pillars of smoke are becoming more commonplace on a daily basis, provided the wind isn't blowing 100 miles an hour. |
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| Don't you love it when you want to take a picture of your son and your dog actually thinks you're taking a picture of her? I didn't want to bruise Laurie's ego, so I let her think it really was all about her. |
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| Kenyon loves playing with these little metal trucks. They were his grandpa's, then his dad's, and now his. |
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Just like mama said... If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.