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2018 dawned quietly.\u00a0 I spent it engaged in minor winter projects (scanning old family photos) in between a surprisingly active real estate market.\u00a0 As you’ll see from the paltry photo gallery below nothing worth documenting actually happened.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
But towards the end of the month an opportunity arose which set in motion an entire year of assessing and reassessing life goals, and thus endless navel gazing pondering my mortality, the pursuit of happiness, and all my other constant obsessions.\u00a0 What happened was this – in late 2017 someone gave us a very good offer to buy our farm.\u00a0 You were spared that whole episode of “what ever shall we do?<\/em>” at that time because it all came to naught.\u00a0 Since you already know that my entire sense of self and self-worth is tied up in my farm and what I’ve carved out of these fields and forests, it would be tough to give up. But we did consider the offer seriously.\u00a0 There is one place that Keith agreed we could give up the farm for, but as it was in the process of being sold to someone we knew, we politely declined the offer.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n But… the whole exercise, indeed just contemplating the ideal of selling the farm,\u00a0 came at one of those inflection points in life that started us thinking… … so when the news came at the end of January that the property Keith and I had always liked was back on the market, we had a ‘now or never’ moment and called our buyer.\u00a0 Was his offer still good?\u00a0 \u00a0It was.\u00a0 \u00a0So we accepted his offer and made an offer on “The Maples<\/a>.”<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n My Hamlet-like dithering<\/a> began in earnest in early February when it looked like this deal would go through.\u00a0 Financing was in place and a plan to downsize the farm was developed.\u00a0 Yet a growing sense of dread permeated every new step towards this transition.\u00a0 What was I doing??<\/em>\u00a0 The prime reasons for making the move were (and are) inarguable: 1) I’m not getting any younger and physically farm work is demanding; 2) over the past few years farming has definitely become more a chore than a joy; and 3) barring a lottery win – we will never be able to afford a proper house if we keep the farm.\u00a0 The arguments against are more emotional:\u00a0 1) for the past 22 years this farm has been my heart and soul.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n So while the wheels set in motion ground toward the sale, I wavered from moment to moment.\u00a0 We’d finally have the Federal\/Georgian\/ house of my dreams!<\/em>\u00a0 But, we’d have neighbors – there’d be no privacy!\u00a0 We’d finally have a proper house with guest rooms, dining room, clothes closets and everything!<\/em>\u00a0 But – think of the taxes and utility costs!\u00a0\u00a0I’d have a more manageable landscape to putter around in!\u00a0<\/em> \u00a0But what would we do with our swans – not to mention the donkeys?<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n After three weeks of this constant hand-wringing, the fates intervened in the form of a “family emergency” that caused the buyer of our farm to put this deal on hold while he rushed overseas.\u00a0 The owner of the house we wanted to buy wasn’t comfortable waiting indefinitely for his return, so the deal collapsed.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n If truth be told, when this happened I felt an enormous sense of relief.\u00a0 But… at the same time the damage had been done.\u00a0 Having raised the possibility of having a “normal” life, suddenly all my farming work, daily chores, and ongoing expenses were exposed to me as a crushing burden.\u00a0 I started questioning the need to carry that burden and was depressed about this for the rest of the year.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n And there, Ladies and Gentlemen, you have my year condensed into less than two months.\u00a0 \u00a0You can stop right here and consider yourselves all caught up.\u00a0 But if you want to take the long road back to this point, read on…<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n A good while ago my sister decided that we siblings were all to meet at my mother’s house in Tryon, NC for a surprise family reunion on our mother’s 80th birthday.\u00a0 As I was hankering for a road trip to clear my mind I decided not only to drive down, but also meander a bit on my way.\u00a0 My first stop was Abingdon, VA<\/a>.\u00a0 I had wanted see the town and surrounding area as it was used as a backdrop to a small indie film<\/a> that I liked.\u00a0 Of course, I wasn\u2019t counting on the rain and clouds to make sight-seeing nearly impossible, but there were a few old places of note in the half hour I spent wandering the main street.\u00a0 The next stop was Bristol VA\/Bristol TN.\u00a0\u00a0 Lots of traffic on State Street in Bristol.\u00a0 I wanted to stop at a little antique shop on my list (did I mention I had already stopped at two of them in Abingdon?), but the lack of parking and the steady drizzle almost made me keep on going.\u00a0\u00a0Still, I finally found a place to park and then wandered around the shop.\u00a0 On my way out the door, the salesclerk asked me if I saw anything I liked.\u00a0 I (somewhat) jokingly replied, \u201cI do like a sideboard that you have back there, but only at half price.\u201d\u00a0<\/em> The truth was I did like the sideboard, but it was too big to transport and too expensive, despite being kinda what I\u2019d been looking for for a good long while.\u00a0 As I opened the door to leave she shouted, \u201cWait!!\u00a0 Which one?\u201d<\/em>\u00a0 So I came back in and showed it to her.\u00a0 She didn\u2019t think the dealer would let it go for what I wanted, but she called him just to find out what his \u201cbest price\u201d might be.\u00a0 She told him I\u2019d take it for half price.\u00a0 Well, he wouldn\u2019t let it go for half price, but came darned near close to it!\u00a0 So I wavered.\u00a0 I told her that I was sorely tempted, but that it wouldn\u2019t fit in my car.\u00a0 “Well, why don\u2019t you measure it to be sure?”<\/em> she suggested (talk about hard sell!).\u00a0 So I took her measuring tape and measured the length and width.\u00a0 Then I went back to my car and measured everything with the seats down and the back space empty.\u00a0 Width-wise no problem.\u00a0 But length-wise I had 59 inches and the sideboard was 61 inches and that was with the front seats scrunched up as far as they could go.\u00a0 So, no dice!\u00a0 Unless\u2026.\u00a0 There were two inches or so where the back seats bumped up about 3-4 inches above the surface of the rest of the folded down flat bed.\u00a0\u00a0 Maybe if we rested the sideboard on that bump it might just fit lengthwise, but would it fit in terms of height?<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n I went back into the shop and told them it probably wouldn\u2019t work but could just possibly, and the only way we\u2019d know for sure is if we took all the display items off the sideboard, and carried it back to their loading dock and then tried very, very carefully to squeeze it into my car.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t think they\u2019d do it, but surprisingly they were game.\u00a0 So while one person carefully unscrewed the backboard, and two others removed all the surrounding antique stuff and doo-dads on and around the sideboard, I stood there thinking \u2013 what am I doing?\u00a0 I don’t even have a house to put this in! Why am I doing this, and how am I going to drive another 4 hours to Tryon and then 9 hours back to Amissville scrunched up with front seat of the car smashed in to the steering wheel.\u00a0 Am I nuts??\u00a0<\/em> Well, you know the answer to that one already.\u00a0 So we got the thing disassembled and carefully loaded it into the back of my Ford Escape.\u00a0 And you know what?\u00a0 It fit \u2013 just barely.\u00a0 So barely in fact, that we had to pad the edges and gently close the tailgate, but it worked.\u00a0 So all my luggage and stuff was smushed into the passenger seat, and I was smushed into the drivers seat and I went on my way.\u00a0\u00a0 I called Keith and told him I bought him a very nice Valentine\u2019s present and then headed through Tennessee on to North Carolina and then down to Asheville.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There were some interesting antique shops in Asheville but of course, no room to buy anything else (well, maybe two small sterling candlesticks).<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n I made it to Tryon in time.\u00a0 I did surprise my mother (whom I hadn\u2019t seen in nearly 8 years \u2013 but that\u2019s another story).\u00a0 All of her children were there: (including Jennifer from Germany, Eric from Boise, Wayne from Chicago, Geoff from Greenville, and Ray from Atlanta).\u00a0 We had a great dinner and at great time back at Mom\u2019s house reminiscing about old times.\u00a0 (Unfortunately the only photos of the event are extremely blurry).\u00a0 The next day, despite my cramped space in the car, I decide I’d continue my road trip and meander further.\u00a0\u00a0So I went east to Winston-Salem (meh) and Greensboro (meh) and then up to Danville, VA, which was surprisingly interesting.\u00a0 It\u2019s another sleepy Southern town that\u2019s seen better days.\u00a0 But, the old tobacco warehouses along the river Dan were being gentrified into cool looking shops and condos and the downtown main street showed some interesting architecture too.\u00a0 But there were no people.\u00a0 It was a ghost town.\u00a0 Where will all the people come from to live in this new \u201cRiver District<\/a>?\u201d\u00a0 Dunno, but Danville might be worth another trip back someday.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Heading north I came to Lynchburg, VA.\u00a0\u00a0 This is the town that is dominated by Jerry Falwell\u2019s Liberty \u201cUniversity<\/a>\u201d and dominated it is.\u00a0 I didn\u2019t see much of the town at all, but what I did see was an enormous campus (and construction cranes) of really ugly oversized cartoonish versions of Greek Revival and Federal style boxes.\u00a0 Imagine Donald Trump\u2019s version of what the University of Virginia would look like and you\u2019re probably not too far off.\u00a0\u00a0 The whole sense of scale and proportion is distorted in every building.\u00a0 Oversized columns or domes plastered onto red brick high rise dormitories.\u00a0 Everything reached heights of vulgarity that I did not think possible in the Old Dominion.\u00a0 But the impressive thing was the scale of the ugliness.\u00a0 It was huge and sprawling! Complete with Jerry Falwell Boulevard, and Jerry Falwell airport, etc. Ugh!\u00a0 I had no idea there would be that many people in this country<\/a> who would pay that kind of money to build such an edifice to what?\u00a0 Ego? Stupidity?\u00a0 But then again, P.T. Barnum warned about this years ago.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n At any rate, north of Lynchburg the scenery improved and once I hit Charlottesville I felt I was back in home territory of tasteful rural gentility.\u00a0 Unfortunately I had to wait until the weekend when Keith was home to unload the sideboard into our garage “dining room” –\u00a0 but I\u2019m very pleased with the result.\u00a0 It\u2019s clearly a 20th<\/sup> Century piece and I\u2019m not sure who the manufacturer is \u2013 but it\u2019s a very nice mahogany Hepplewhite sideboard that fits in perfectly with my dreams for an actual dining room someday.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n March dawned mildly, but within 24 hours a major nor’easter<\/a>\u00a0with hurricane force winds ruined everything.\u00a0 For once our farm escaped with nothing more than a few downed branches, while lots of neighbors lost a great many trees.\u00a0 Our power was out for 6 days – enough to ruin things in fridge and freezer –\u00a0 but the main hardship was trying to get water to heavily pregnant ewes without a functioning well pump.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Once power was restored things didn’t get much easier.\u00a0 It snow about 5 inches on the first day of Spring.\u00a0 March was raw from beginning to end, and it made a disappointing lambing season even more so.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Lambing came late this year and was a disaster from the get-go.\u00a0 Lambs dying mysteriously, ewes dying mysteriously, and the numbers were way down.\u00a0 Lots of singles and only a few twins.\u00a0 \u00a0Needless to say this did nothing to revive my flagging interest in farming.\u00a0 Farming is tough work in the best of times, but it’s at its toughest when you’re trying to save a life on limited sleep and energy and all the while making the mental calculation “is it cost effective to call the vet?”<\/em>\u00a0 There were several times when I could have done so and potentially saved a ewe and\/or her lambs, but one of things that wears me down about farming is remembering that these animals are live<\/em>stock\u00a0 – not pets.\u00a0 They’re worth only so much, and that worth needs to be substantially greater than the price of medical intervention.\u00a0 \u00a0More than the hard physical labor, or the anxiety, or late nights in the barn, it is the cold economic and heartless decision-making in putting animals down that gets to me the most.\u00a0 At no time does nature seem crueler than when she imposes death on new life.\u00a0 And at no time does farming upset me more when I have to let this happen.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The happy part of the month was my birthday.\u00a0 It wasn’t a milestone one, but Keith surprised me nevertheless with a wonderful schnitzel dinner for two and the following night his sister Yvonne joined us for a feast fit for a king at the Inn at Little Washington<\/a>.\u00a0 It’s clear that they really do like Keith there – as we got the royal treatment and then some.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Otherwise the month proceeded along with the usual anticipatory dread for the Spring growing season of mowing, pruning, planting, weeding, hatching, etc, etc.\u00a0\u00a0<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The best part of March, however, was that someone, somewhere, decreed that it was once again permissible, and indeed, desirable, to buy a large farm in Virginia.\u00a0 In sudden succession, three of my largest listings (including one 400 acre farm that I’d been trying to sell for the past 5 years) found buyers.\u00a0 All at once.\u00a0 The market seemed to be booming and that made me very happy and very nervous in equal measure.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n A wintry March bled into April without any sign of Spring. While lambing season finished in early April, we were way behind on the rest of the usual Spring fecundity. The hens weren’t laying, it was too cold in the pigeon loft to pair up birds, and it was so cold that it looked like they might cancel the annual Old Dominion Hounds<\/a> Point-to-Point races. The races took place, but we wimped out. The blustery winds and snow flurries proved too much for us, but not for some of our stalwart friends. We gladly handed over our space at the rail to Nick and Nessa<\/a>. Nessa’s father had a great time watching the races – and they stayed until the bitter end. Being upstaged by a 92 year old Irishman put us in our place. Next year we’ll show up no matter what the weather.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Spring finally broke through and the world began to green up and I scrambled to photograph a slew of new farm listings, and plant the garden and get the sheep on pasture all at once. In the midst of all this we had family visits from my brother Geoff and sister-in-law Sandy and niece Mindy, and then from the California Miller nephews, together with a mid-month break for Ann Marie and Denis’s beautiful wedding<\/a> on Maryland’s Eastern Shore.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n <\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Just when the weather righted itself we had to leave – for a real <\/em>vacation! Two years ago, our faithful ex-farm hand agreed to watch things while we were off in Oregon quaffing wine by the gallon. Upon our return, he very politely let us know that it would be the last time he’d have time to do so. It was just a bit too much for him to do with a full-time job elsewhere. Now if even our \u00fcber -competent Jeremy found it draining to farm-sit this place, could we ever thinking of leaving again? I didn’t think we could. But here we were, due to be Southern California for Keith’s best friend’s 50th and we had no farm assistance, much less a farm sitter. Or did we? My brother Wayne was gracious enough to suggest that he would come back and finish working on the garden pavilions he designed for us last year. What if I could convince him to come here and do so and ‘babysit<\/em>‘ the farm while we were in LA? Hmmm…….. My sister-in-law Audrey extracted a tough bargain (and we still owe her!), but she agreed to let Wayne spend 10 days here and play carpenter\/farm slave. Wayne’s only condition was that he be allowed to bring his dog “Guppy.”<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Now Wayne is probably the most laid-back of all my siblings. Nothing phases him too much, and he’s pretty competent in most things, so I though this was a good solution all around. Until I met Guppy. I’m sure Guppy is a very nice and well mannered dog in her own territory, but she seemed to think our farm was a combination of “Dogs Gone Wild” and a Spring Break Frat party. After several frantic tears around the house, Keith decided that our leather sofa might want a vacation of its own downstairs in the garage.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n But with Wayne supplied with instructions and bachelor provisions, we nervously left for California. After a long, cramped, and crappy flight (sorry folk, no internet today and no place to plug in your screen to watch our expensive in-flight craptastic movies!), we arrived at LAX. It was 8 pm and we were due in Palm Springs that evening, but Keith being Keith (sigh!<\/em>), decided that a detour downtown to eat at an expensive restaurant with an extensive wine<\/a> list was was worth the extra three hours of drive time. Keith and the sommelier<\/a> nattered on like two old biddies at a church social, while I wondered what kind of excuse we could come up with for our host in Palm Springs when we got there hours after we were expected. During the late night drive to the desert I was treated to non-stop commentary from Keith about the vileness of the suburban sprawl that washed over us on either side of the freeway. He made a little retching sound at name of each municipality as it passed by. Who knew my husband was such a snob? But it was his home turf, so who am I to judge? At any rate, I have to admit I was a bit taken aback by the endlessness of it all. I hadn’t been to Palm Springs since 1989 and at that time it seemed to be far from anywhere. Now it seemed like there were just a few miles of open desert before the sprawl of ‘suburban’ Palm Springs started.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n We spent a wonderful day touring Palms Springs with Keith’s old friend Dave Yeager.\u00a0 Dave did up his guest bedroom in true hotel style – complete with pricey mini-bar (but it turns out drinks were on the house). He was a great host. Not only did he not complain about our very late arrival, he even made us breakfast the next day and then gave us a great tour of the town. Palm Springs is sited beautifully against the mountains in the desert.\u00a0 Even the Target parking lot had stunning views of the scenery.\u00a0 But the whole thing was just kinda…. I dunno….dull.\u00a0 I can appreciate mid-century modern for a weekend,\u00a0 and it really does fit into the desert – but I don’t think I could live in it 24\/7.\u00a0 \u00a0Still, it was great to visit and see the sights, and the added bonus was that we got to catch up my old friend Chris Harris for lunch at the Purple Palm<\/a> too. Thanks Chris!<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The next day was really Californian – driving on the freeway to LA. Freeway traffic was horrific, but the goal at the end of the road was worth the stress. Drew & Michael’s magnificent mansion in Los Feliz<\/a> was straight out of central casting. I think every set designer wanting to evoke upscale LA living visits their house to take notes. Pretty posh. We had just enough time to soak in our surroundings and change for Dave and Brad’s drinks-and-dinner tour of Downtown LA – this time in the flower district. Now Keith is the only one of this group to have actual downtown street cred (he lived there back in the day when it was all pretty much an extension of Skid Row), but I have to say these ex-pats from the East (and Vancouver) really know their territory. And it’s changed substantially from just the few years back that Keith and I visited the last time. It was a fantastic evening of bar-hopping<\/a> and dining<\/a> with the cool and hip millennials and made me wish I was 20-30 years younger.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Friday morning Keith hit the gym while I went to the Getty Museum<\/a>.\u00a0 Very nice setting and architecturally wonderful (and totally different than the Villa<\/a>).\u00a0\u00a0But the exhibition space was pretty incoherent and collections a bit sparse and random.\u00a0 Still, the gardens were impressive.\u00a0 Then home to prepare for a dinner party that evening. \u00a0Drew & Michael invited a good chunk of the East Coast expat crowd and it was good to see them all, and to listen to them lobby us on how we need to pick up stakes and move west too…\u00a0 \u00a0 Hmmm… could we?<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The next day we headed to Keith’s teenage stomping grounds in the O.C.\u00a0 Huntington Beach <\/a>was looking pretty nice and spiffier than I remembered it. This was the whole reason for the trip. We were there for Kaycee Harding’s big birthday party. Kaycee’s husband James had suggested we surprise her by showing up in California for her birthday. But we were the mini-surprise<\/em> – a decoy for the bigger surprise of her actual surprise party, which in turn had another surprise, which was that he had flown in her favorite band from Europe to play at her party. He planned the whole thing flawlessly and she enjoyed it immensely.\u00a0 It was a great evening and terrific fun meeting all these folks I had heard about over the years.\u00a0 It was also quite revealing to see Keith interact with all his old high school buddies, and they were definitely curious about me too.\u00a0 \u00a0Keith hadn’t seen a lot of them in a long, long time.\u00a0 He arrived dressed and ready to party like it was 1983. They, of course,\u00a0having seen each other more regularly through the years, were happy to stand around dressed like the suburbanites they’d become, trading photos of their grandchildren, and getting home before it was too late.\u00a0 He was shocked, absolutely shocked, to find that most of them don’t even drink any more. Though he tried not to show it, I could tell he was a little annoyed that they had all grown up and become middle aged while he was away.\u00a0 \u00a0Sigh<\/em>…\u00a0 Living with Peter Pan isn’t easy some times.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The next day we headed back up the coast through endless traffic on the 101 and the 405 (the one constant of LA life it would seem) to brunch at Heike and Richard’s cool little house overlooking the beach in the Pacific Palisades.\u00a0 Heike, of course, put out a great spread and put Richard on grill duty with the bratwurst.\u00a0 We all sat around and had a very enlightening conversation about the politics of energy and water and sprawl in Southern California.\u00a0 It’s great having so many intelligent and thoughtful friends who know what they’re talking about.\u00a0 I came away with new respect for the challenges of life in the area and the solutions the Californians are considering.\u00a0 If only our national political scene were as reasoned.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n After brunch we headed through traffic yet again to see Michael Boh’s yacht in Marina del Rey.\u00a0 \u00a0It’s a gorgeous boat, and we were promised an afternoon cruise, but unfortunately Michael had had a rather rough passage getting back from Catalina that a.m. and was still a bit shaken after getting his boat cleaned up and then dealing with the damage to his mast.\u00a0 So instead of a cruise we sat in the galley and heard his harrowing tale of rogue waves and nearly capsizing on his way to meet us.\u00a0 Then back through the traffic to head up to the rarified atmosphere <\/a>of Jerry Bloom’s spectacular Richard Neutra house in the Hollywood Hills.\u00a0 The last time we had visited Jerry the house was under renovation. This time it was all completed and – wow!\u00a0 just wow!\u00a0 \u00a0If all of California was like this, I’d be signed up in a second.\u00a0 Jerry threw together a fantastic last minute dinner party for 8, cleaned up afterwards, showed us to our room and then excused himself to pack for his business trip early the next morning.\u00a0 Pretty amazing energy.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The next day we had the house to ourselves and pretended that we lived surrounded by movie stars everyday as we puttered around and made breakfast.\u00a0 Then reality intruded and we headed off to meet up with Kaycee and James and Heike and Richard to tour the Huntington Gardens<\/a>.\u00a0 Traffic to Pasadena was as wretched as elsewhere, but I decided I could live in Pasadena and never travel anywhere else. In my mind, Pasadena and San Marino are exactly what Southern California is supposed to be, but isn’t. \u00a0We had a leisurely lunch and then spent the afternoon touring the gardens.\u00a0 Then tea afterwards, then cocktails in downtown Pasadena, and then dinner as well. It was about as properly bourgeois a day as we’d ever had. Dinner at The Arbour<\/a> was about as old school Californian as it gets.\u00a0 So prosperous and sleek with blond wood and steel and perfectly coiffed matrons drinking their California chardonnay as they caught up with their friends.\u00a0<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n Leaving the next day made us a bit wistful. Obviously being wined and dined by such generous friends gives one a biased view of life in LA, but if it weren’t for the hordes of people and the endless sprawl, the earthquakes, the mudslides, the wildfires, and the water shortages, we could probably see ourselves living there.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n We came home to find that Wayne had done the expected excellent job in holding down the fort while making great progress on our garden buildings. Also, despite Keith’s fears, it appeared that Guppy hadn’t destroyed everything either. So we lucked out all around.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n The rest of the month was rather quiet and rainy. But it is worth noting that on May 19th\u00a0at the Costco in Manassas, VA, for the first time ever in my life,\u00a0I got in the “right” checkout lane.<\/p>\r\n\r\n\r\nJanuary Photos<\/h4>\r\n\r\n\r\n
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February Photos<\/h4>\r\n\r\n\r\n
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![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18Feb10-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18Feb12-732x732.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18Feb13-666x666.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18Feb14-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18feb15-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18feb16-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/18Feb17-562x562.jpg\")
\r\n\r\n\r\nMarch<\/h3>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/marfeat.jpg\")
<\/figure>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\nMarch photos<\/h4>\r\n\r\n\r\n
\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180326_175118-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180326_123404-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180321_102009-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180320_152430-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180318_220157-562x562.jpg\" "\\"a\\"")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180318_215950-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180318_203723-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180318_203719-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180318_184135-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180318_102128-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180311_115521-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180306_170049-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180306_165517-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/18mar01-562x562.jpg\")
\r\n\r\n\r\nApril<\/h3>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/12\/aprfeat.jpg\")
\r\nApril Photos<\/h4>\r\n\r\n\r\n
\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180402_211458-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180402_211501-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180403_141952-511x511.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180412_213102-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180421_170811-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180421_194615-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180421_222039-750x750.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180424_173240-562x562.jpg\")
\r\n\r\n\r\nMay<\/h3>\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/new.zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/mayfeat.jpg\")
\r\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/new.zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/guppy.jpg\")
\r\n\n
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180502_145006-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180502_201733-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180502_214917-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180503_135657-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180503_214923-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180503_221430-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180503_230412-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180504_010006-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180504_133320-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180504_150220-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180504_151806-562x562.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/zuschlag.us\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/20180504_155515-562x562.jpg\")