Oh. crap.

Someone asked me how old I am, yesterday. I said, "I'm twentyffff - twenty-five. I almost said 'twenty-four'!" I added, laughing.

Then quite suddenly - startling myself as much as him, I think - I shouted "I'm twenty-six!"

Oh dear. My life stopped at twenty-four, apparently.

my sweet

This is Coriander. One of my favorites (Shhh. Don't tell the others). When I go into the pasture to pick oranges (of which I probably eat seventeen a day - poor, poor teeth) she follows me around prodding at me with her nose. As soon as I pick an orange and place it in my bucket she sticks her head in the bucket, removes the orange, and drops it on the ground. Then she gives me a look of deep consternation as if to say, 'What are you playing at? I can't eat that.' This goes on for some time. Orange into the bucket. Orange out of the bucket. Consternation. Orange into the bucket. Orange out of the bucket. Consternation.

When I have done, and all of my dewy oranges are now covered in mud, I replace them into the bucket and, on my way out of the field, stop at a macadamia nut tree to pull a branch to within Coriander's reach. She'll chew on it for as long as I stand there holding it for her, and always looks a little shocked when I let go.

She is such a princess.

She is so cute.

Here she is, having just gotten her vaccines, enjoying a special treat.

Cutest. Thing. Ever.