I love Tuesdays. I have the day off after working only one day. Ah, this is perfect. Today I'll change the sheets, get some rock garden plants to plant in Dad's old work boots on the front porch, and goof off the rest of the day. It's not raining, it's not sunny but it isn't raining and isn't supposed to rain. Whoever turned off the faucet, thank you.
June 9--Pierre Bonnard, Dining Room on the Garden. There wasn't a bad seat at Aunt Mame's dining table, but my favorite one was across from the tall windows that overlooked the slope down to the lake. The colorful food was replaced by the colorful flowers, then the greens of the trees and shrubs, then the dark blue green of the water. None of the chairs around the table matched and none of the people did either. There were rich brown people and poor white ones, middle class black business owners and brilliant ivory ones. When I spent summers at Aunt Mame's I met them all. Aunt Mame taught high school English in the school year but she and her life-long companion, Miss Lutz, lived the Bohemian life in the summer at their home by the lake. Everything and everyone there was colorful and fascinating. I learned a lot about life at that table and never wanted summers to end.
Sounds great, doesn't it? I want to go there right now.
--Barbara
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