Dandelions, again (redux)
I mowed on Saturday. The next morning, when we left for church, the dandelion stems already had perked up.
They were taller at lunchtime. By the day’s end, they were “in flower.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Happy birthday to Mary, my sister.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
This year, I’m reading all of Jane Austen’s novels: one chapter each day. It’s almost like reading a daily comic strip, the dosage is so small.
First novel: Sense & Sensibility. Poor, decrepit Colonel Brandon, on “the wrong side of thirty-five.” (Oh, to be thirty-five again.)
Good-night.
They were taller at lunchtime. By the day’s end, they were “in flower.”
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
Happy birthday to Mary, my sister.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
This year, I’m reading all of Jane Austen’s novels: one chapter each day. It’s almost like reading a daily comic strip, the dosage is so small.
First novel: Sense & Sensibility. Poor, decrepit Colonel Brandon, on “the wrong side of thirty-five.” (Oh, to be thirty-five again.)
Good-night.