"Oh, look!" Fall foliage along the way to Placerville had Kit gasping around nearly every corner. The hills had put on their prettiest dress for company and were showing off. Walnut trees were highlighted in gold, Japanese maples were bedecked in deep red, but the real stars were the pistache, flames of brilliant red and yellow in colors so pure they almost hurt the eyes, and there were many of them tucked along our route. Like the proud mother of a well-behaved child, I was so happy to see that "my" hills pleased my guest.
Some angel with a tractor blade came along yesterday morning and did a darned good job of smoothing the worst of the ruts on Gray Rock. I think I was more thrilled by that than by the beautiful scenery.
Ostensibly watching television later, the pause button was hit many, many times as we continued to chatter, taking advantage of our brief time together. The wood stove had been shut down while we were in town and once the house gets cold, it takes a long time to warm up again, so Kit snuggled down under the softest imaginable throw she'd brought as a gift. It was only fitting that she got to try it first. Frank joined her in the recliner and he gave his seal of approval to the cloud-like cover, kneading it like a kitten.
Another good day.