Thursday, August 1, 2013

July 20


It has been so hot for so long I think this is the first year in all time when the end of July does not bring an hour’s taste of autumn. I am painting the house obsessively, eyeing the wild raspberries that ripen along the trail. They may not wait for me to make jam. Paint or jam? Paint or jam? I can only obsess on one thing at a time.

Then, suddenly--I
wake to no swelter. Up! Quick!
Must call for hay! Now!


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