~ my baby boy, with his baby cat ~

Balaclava days are over for this year — maybe.

After supper with Grandma — I picked up a box of fried chicken and she boiled potatoes and carrots and made a devilled-egg salad — we hurried home so L could get out and get his chores done before dark.

I put on my ski pants (“You don’t need ski pants anymore!” his mom laughed when she saw me wearing them. “Yes I do!” I laughed back. “If I stand still for five minutes in the barn, I’ll get cold.”) and went out to see if my help was needed.

It wasn’t, but L wanted me to go into the corral to see all the newborn calves, a veritable herd of them either bedded down in the fresh straw spread about the lean-to, or leaping about playfully with their heels in the air. Cute little jiggers, they are.

It was too dark to take a picture of their gamboling.
But sweet -- so sweet.