Dusty and I walked along the river this morning. There was still no breeze but it was a lot less buggy than the trail along the creek the other day and we did manage to walk a bit more than 2 miles so that's good. We both realized that we're not being as dedicated to walking as we were last year, we were both dragging by the end and it wasn't 80 degrees, we just felt like we're 80 years old. It's time to quit laying around like slugs and keep moving in between walks. I have to get rid of (eat) these M&Ms first though.
July 7--George Bellows, Tennis at Newport. "Do you see her sitting down there at the baseline?" Reenie hissed to Julia. "I mean, really, I know that whites are no longer de rigueur for tennis but red? Crimson red? It's too much." The two women, one young matron and her older cousin, sat with their hat brims crossed their parasols touching as they surveyed the lawn party guests. "She's Leonard's cousin's daughter from Kansas City. She and her mama are staying with us and, Reenie, you would not believe her. She wears all bright colors even in the morning and she's loud and brash. No manners at all." Julia shook her head. "Of course my Alice Anne thinks she's fabulous, tries to emulate her. I cannot wait until she leaves." They looked at the knot of laughing young people with the scarlet-clad brunette in the center and frowned.
Ah, convention is so hard to buck. What are your weekend plans? Dusty and I are thinking of doing a bit of geocaching.