Monday

Sunday berries, dogs and dishes

Beatrice took me for a walk in the park on Sunday, crisp colorful and bright while the near freezing temperatures made my nose run a little.

Her nose was wet too, probably the morning dew she picked up during the investigating.

Most of my family made an afternoon here during the summer and posed for photos on the playground, they, like the sweltering heat and deep greens, are ghosts, victims of the seasons.

Probably poison, that crazy witch in the Wizard of Oz might covet these berries.

Natures last stab at summer-esque beauty.

I called Beatrice to me and she made a wrong turn at the fence, "what do I do now, Papa?"

The dish people fixed what hurricane Ike had broken, a simple adjustment I figured. Then Uncle Rand came over and sat in the back yard and asked why we had two dishes. What's that? Two dishes? So we get channels from Saturn and Mercury now.

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