Unless you can swear “For life, for death!” –
Oh, fear to call it loving!
The teaching week is over and I feel drained from the energy expelled during a tremendous amount of fantastic lessons.
I climbed into the one twin bed in the guest bedroom with Bailey on my pillow, Harrigan at my feet, Erma on the floor beside the bed, and Chief in the octagonal hall. It’s oft a chore to climb over and step around dogs just to move to the bathroom; I’d not have it any other way.
The past two nights I’ve been able to turn off the A/C and use a window fan for sleeping. I prefer moving fresh air for sleeping but we’ve not had many cooler nights this past week.
No solid plans accompany me into my three day weekend. I have a list but it just keeps getting moved to the following week.
Forty-one years ago, July 8, 1979, I met Rick at Smith-Walbridge drum-major camp. It’s hard to believe this many years have passed since that Sunday afternoon while standing in the mess hall line.
Once upon a time…
I been enjoying colorizing old black and white photographs of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt which I’ve added to this evening’s collection.