We had a cool and rainy day and no real family plans so Durwood lolled around reading the paper and doing a drift of Mensa crossword puzzles.
March 27--Voscar, Open Water, Northern Maine. That year there was no "ice out." One day the river was a solid sheet of ice and twenty-four hours later there was nothing but open water. Scottie sat on the south-facing porch, her face turned up like a sunflower. The warm air on her face was like velvet and the sunshine a benediction. She kind of missed the days of creaking and groaning as the ice thinned and broke apart, and she wondered if somewhere downstream the ice piled up in glittering mounds on the banks or against fallen logs.
I feel all discombobulated blogging so late but my day got away from me, the sewing time just flew by. I might or might not blog tomorrow. We'll see if there's anything worth photographing in the morning. My BIL, RJ, is home safe from work (he calls on his way home from his job to catch up on the news and to stay awake) so I should probably sign off. It's getting toward my bedtime too. Adios.