Micia’s adventures in the vegetable garden, the hayloft and the farmhouse attic.

• 18 October 2026 #7 A Cushion for the Peaches The folder with Max’s portrait was safe on the shelf when Grandma called Micia. There were ripe peaches in the orchard to pick for their afternoon snack. Toto brought a shallow wooden crate, and Chia joined them along the path. Yellow and pink fruit hung among the branches, soft as little cheeks. Micia was already holding a peach in one paw. She reached towards a low branch with the other and picked a second with a gentle twist. “I can smell that one from down here,” said Chia, lifting her feelers. Toto knelt beside the crate and set the first fruit inside. The peach rolled towards a corner. He quickly stopped it, his eyebrows knitted. “I don’t want them bumping into each other on the way home.” Micia looked at the wooden bottom. “Perhaps they need a cushion.” Grandma had left a clean cloth on the fence. Micia spread it inside the crate, but a large fold remained in the middle. The first peach rolled up onto it and slid away again. Chia stretched her neck. “The cushion has a mountain in the middle.” Toto lifted the fruit. Micia smoothed the cloth, folding its edges along the sides, and they tried again. This time the peach stayed still. They placed more beside it in a single layer, leaving the hard ones on the branches. “No peach castles,” Toto decided. “Just a dormitory,” Micia replied. They carried the crate to the farmhouse, each holding one side. Chia was waiting at the doorstep, having taken the shortcut beneath the hedge. Grandma washed the fruit and sliced a peach for their snack. Toto looked at the crate. “We’ve made them so comfortable that I almost feel bad waking them.” Then he tasted a slice and immediately changed his mind. Read the tale →

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