It's been a while. Let us do some continuations.
Just pick up the story from where the last person left it off and carry it for a ways. Nothing too long, though; we don't want one person totally dominating the story. And it's always a good idea to stop at a spot where the next person can easily pick it up.
Five of the eight house guests (between our place and the in-laws) left for home today, which was a little sad. But Kat's brother, sister-in-law, and niece aren't leaving until tomorrow, so that helps.
Speaking of which, I reckon it's past time for you guys to meet my niece, Natalie:
We're going to miss her the most, I suspect.
We moved barefoot through the orchard, the scent of apples filling our nostrils. The sun at its zenith cast jagged shadows that the gusting wind pushed around with more enthusiasm than we thought was really necessary.
I was regretting not pausing to put on shoes before we left the house, but there was no going back by that point. I figured I'd just grab Momma's tweezers later on and use them to remove the sand burrs lodging themselves in my soles.
Those were thoughts for later though, so I concentrated instead on following in my brother's footsteps as silently as a mouse. Just like he'd taught me to. One foot carefully in front of the other, always on the lookout for fallen branches that might snap beneath us, for fallen apples that were eager to twist an ankle.
We were not alone out there, but we hoped that the others were unaware of our presence. That would have made spying on them a heck of a lot easier. But just in case they were watching out for intruders, my brother and I filled our pockets with rocks as we went.