the. bungalow. post.

Today, Cora learned she could escape our prison backyard.  She climbs with one hand and a fist full of raisins on the woodpile Zander has stacked against the wall.   So dangerous.  But I got the cure.  I'm going to time the arrival of the terrible monstrous loathe some garbage truck and Cora's summit of the woodpile.  Her worst nightmare rumbles right by it every Thursday morning.  Sounds dramatic, but I need to pack some force behind keeping this girl safe.  She's a climber.  She'll take advantage of anything that steps her a little higher towards the top of the table, counter, stove, fence and so on.  Often, she quick digs her big toe in my eye socket or pulls on my hair like rope.  I cringe and yelp on the outside, but inside, my heart swells with pride.  My future tree climber!

 

Cora follows this guy anywhere.  Enjoying our backwater swamp during the monsoons.  I wish I could say ender is pretending to snipe a barracuda with a blow dart, but he could be trying to suck up the "water".