I refuse. I've said it before, I feel like I've been living in the middle of a whirlwind, and today I'm stepping out. All next week I'll be stepping out as a matter of fact. I have to work Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. In the evenings I need to cook a bit and get ready to escape for a few nights with Cookie and Skully, and on Thursday morning we drive away to spend three nights at The Clearing. All. By. Ourselves. No class, no other "campers," just us and 128 acres of woodland and bay shore. I'm taking my writing and knitting. Skully and Cookie are bringing sewing, knitting, and probably beading. We're making soup, stew, and roast beef to keep body and soul together. Mom's (posthumously) contributing paper bowls, plates, and napkins. (The woman had a hoarder's worth!) I don't really care what weather we have, as long as it isn't pouring rain. Chilly and breezy, I could deal with, maybe even a bit of snow. No rain. I need to walk the trails and sit looking out over the bay. We'll have nightly fires too. It should be great.
October 29--Robert Nunns and John Clark, Square Piano. It was a good place to hide. In the dim parlor, the shadow beneath the square piano was inky black even on the brightest days. Chelsea practiced in the mornings but for the rest of the day no one when into the parlor. Well, except for the first Thursday of every month when a bunch of pickle-pussed women came for a meeting. Mama was in charge and she took her job very seriously. She'd shoo me out, tell me not to be lurking out on the gallery with my ears lapping up the conversations. I wonder where she got the idea I even care about her dumb meeting. All they talk about is Bible stuff which I get plenty of in Sunday School.
Aunt B, Durwood says to tell you that an oxygen tank lasts really long if you forget to turn it on. He drove all the way down and back with it off. Silly Durwood.