The "puppies" turned 12 yesterday.
Flounder (yellow) says 12 is the new 9, so not to worry.
Feather says she doesn't care what the calendar shows, she only feels 8.
I listen to their wisdom and hold it close.
Meanwhile, at Dad's house in St. Augustine, in the storm damaged greenhouse I repaired, tiny datil pepper seeds are emerging from rich homemade compost.
They are the newest link in a chain stretching back centuries.