This past weekend we drove upstate to New York to visit my dad and brother. They live in a hundred-acre wooded farmland. Rolling mountains, spacious sky -- it's one of my favorite places in the world.
But before we even step inside their home and give my family great, big, I've-missed-you hugs, I'm always greeted in the driveway by my two sweet cats. I had rescued and adopted them as kittens while I was living in my old apartment. I found them alone and abandoned, mewing in a neighboring field; their mother was later found dead down the road. I think they were no more 5 weeks old at the time.
When I moved into my current apartment, though, I sadly couldn't take them with me, so my Dad took them into his care. I think they love their mountain home as much as I do.
Conan is my snuggable little man. I swear he's part dog.... How can you not love this face?
Chloe is my sensitive sweetie. When I had been going through a difficult time a few years ago, she'd always quietly curl up beside me whenever I needed a good cry.
They love basking in dad's vegetable garden.
Cabbages and corn, green beans and tomatoes.