Oh what a beautiful morning . . .

"Indiana Jones in the Cretaceous Period" by Kiddo with a little help from Mom and Grampa.

All is right in my world. Sixty-one degrees, slight breeze, bright sunshine, clear blue skies, every seed planted has sprouted, older brother is slowly mending from a horrible bout with Lyme Disease, older sister who managed to disappear herself for a few weeks has been found! younger sister and I will get to go to lunch tomorrow, younger brother doing well in Preston, what more can one ask? Kiddo and Grampa have spent lots of time these past two weekends building and painting a small control line plane. They've also gone to the flying field to see some of the guys flying helicopters while Mémé just stayed home and did rien, absolument rien. This dry, sunny weather makes me euphoric!

Puppy's Pop is on his way to the Flying Field while I get to read the Bulletin which is not supposed to be delivered on Sundays! I did call again to tell the paper that we don't get the Sunday edition. This is only the fourth communication they get from us on this subject. Perhaps by Christmas they will cease and desist delivering the garbage (pronounced in French) on Sundays. Oh how I miss the Baton Rouge Advocate. It had real, in depth articles. It was enjoyable, literate, bright interesting to me, Yankee that I am.

Quote: In moderating, not in satisfying desires, lies peace. ___Hebert