I'm in the middle of making nectarine butter, and the house smells devine.
The twins poke their heads out of their rooms from time to time like prairie dogs checking to see if the coast is clear to come sneak a taste.
People walking by the house slow their pace and turn their faces to my open kitchen window, taking deep breaths and I watch slow smiles come to their face.
Indigo is oblivious to all of it.
Tomorrow it will be plums. Boy do I enjoy these smells!