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Masza and Bruno inspecting molehills before a walk in the forest with the rest of .

Inspected the last stretch of power lines to our place today. are keeping reasonable distance, though this might change when snow starts falling and cracked branches hit the wires. The generator tank is full, so we're ready. Life in the of .

After weeks of cloudy skies we finally had some sunshine. The low quality sunshine you would expect in the of at this time of the year, but nevertheless real sunshine, not the canned thing we've depended on. , our pack of , appeared to be happy

A slightly wet Polish Lowland , Bruno, of the pack, in our slightly wet . There should be much more water here now, but we're losing it quickly as old ditches are cleared to make meadows in the background easier to mow. Farmers don't really need all that hay, but they get paid for this, and if they don't mow them they will get no money.

, our dogs, want to turn left. The road straight ahead is much longer and they know it.

That one tree with dried leaves is probably not well as apoptosis didn't kick in on time. We''ll see how it survives the winter.

Driving home through the of . My 4WD car is still waiting to be fixed, but the old rear-wheel drive city car can still handle our roads. There's a video on Twitter (twitter.com/szescstopni/status) – don't want to clog up this place.

, our , enjoying the first day of snow on the road to our place. If it snows more our car will not be able to get through antil then comes – which might take a few days.

Bruno wanted to get a drink, but Masza just had to press the "make ripples" button.

There are no really old here on the edge of one of the youngest national parks in , , so this will have to do for . That brown blur is not a (most of the large trees near this one have been felled by ) but Vuko, a from our pack of (mostly) rescue mutts. The branches on the ground in the back are what is left of a small beaver dam destroyed by humans. The beavers are constantly rebuilding it.

"I didn't do it! She did!". No way. Now trying to explain to him she's not like the wind. pack od , of .

Finally the ditches are frozen and the of the pack can roam a wider area of our .

Our are being drained. Come next summer, the wet meadows won't be wet any more.

First – very little of it, but still fun for Masza, the senior bitch of the pack.

Fallen in an unmanaged . Is there any better explanation for this than ancient civilisations? :)

Frozen hunt with the , our pack. This Xercocomus won't end up in our kitchen, we'll leave it to the snails.

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