There is a magical time here on the farmette called, "Sunday Afternoons". It falls just after lunchtime when we all seem to be at home. Typically we don't make any plans as it seems that this is the only time during the week where nothing appears on our calendar. We save this time for ourselves to cook/bake, walk on the farm, watch a movie, play with the dogs, play ball, be together, etc...
Sometimes Secret Agent Man takes the tractor out for a spin.
If I go to the barn my trusty sidekick always goes with me.
The cows always appreciate the visit.
Sunday afternoon is a fine time to admire the Nasturtiums that are still blooming on the old plow.
Time n. continuous period measured by clocks, watches, and calendars
Never enough of it together here on the farmette.