Four lines of prose about: the maid.
Today was too busy for picture taking, so I'll have to make time tomorrow.
It's definitely getting cooler around these parts - the berries are fading again and early mornings require more clothing than I'm used to (I was rather cold for most of this morning's harvest).
Back to the market tomorrow morning, and then we're officially on vacation until next Sunday. I'm looking forward to it.
She wields her duster as though it were a sword, the dust bunnies her mortal enemies. Each morning they muster to stand against her, attacking from dark corners and forgotten crannies. But she destroys them all, emerging victorious at the end of every day.
She knows her thoughts are more than a little crazy, but they help her get through the drudgery and back home to her precious daughters.