Somehow none of the pictures of John C include me, although he and Colby did fly up for the party. However, while he was here, we did record John practicing a bit of goat management in Bowen's field.

Also at the party, Leah's stepdad, Robert, played the piano with 3-month-old Bobo.

In February, before we knew the extent of the pandemic, and when the postal service still delivered on time, we mail-ordered a new batch of chicks. In March, with dawning awareness of an unidentified contagion in Seattle, we planted a garden while canceling our trips across the Sound to "Pugetopolis". We laid gravel on our shared neighborhood road, instead.

More spring cleanup, this time featuring Leah and Bobo. Also, the obligatory fish picture, without which no spring season is complete.

Summer is always hunter/gatherer, bounty-preservation time.

By fall, we were still well into isolation, adopting habits that would have seemed extraordinary only six months before.

However, life continues its onward march. Compare Bobo at 9-months with the infant at the piano in January.

I cannot lie, I write these yearly roundups of events by looking back through the year's pictures.

Mostly what we had memorialized this year were scores of iphone pictures of broken tractor parts, mysterious wiring leading to inoperable fixtures, diagrams of this or that system found in some obscure manual. Clearly, our equipment is aging right along with us! None of this deserves any more mention here. So I'm left with pictures of us, aging from year to year (look back over prior years' pictures to compare the damage), and baby Bobo, sprouting like a weed in the other direction, month by month.

Unretouched old age isn't for sissies, as my mother used to say; blossoming toddlerhood is much more photogenic.

I thought that would be it for this year, but no, John just requested inclusion of two more fish pictures. So here's Bo, with a fall, ocean-caught ling cod, and John with yesterday's river-caught steelhead.