Autumn Arrived On A Smoky Breeze

I went out to plug in the fountain and it smelled like the neighbors were having a campfire. Turns out there's a big-ass fire in Minnesota and the smoke and ash are wafting our way on the wind. It smells nice and so far anyway doesn't seem to be bothering Durwood's breathing. He's deeply into tomato production these days. Last week he made 3 gallons of tomato juice. I was supposed to show him how to can it this week. There's no need, he's down to less than 1 gallon. But he's making more tomorrow so the lesson's back on. He also found a recipe for tomato soup in this cookbook I got him a few summers ago so some of them are going into soup. He is truly Tomato Boy, but very happy. He's also really enjoying his new role as grandpa to Porter. We went over last night for a visit and they spent time lying on the carpet communing with each other, and he just left to go play with her and let her out since DS & DIL1 are both working. I'm so glad he's got a doggie to play with and also that someone besides me needs him. It's got to be boring.

September 12--French, Glove. Enid smoothed the white leather gloves over her hands. They quickly warmed to match her body's temperature and made them feel a part of her. She danced the night away flirting with boys who suddenly seemed like men. She drank fizzy punch and the bubbles went to her head. This changed Enid was livlier, flirtier, and more beautiful than she'd ever been before. Her steps were light and her quips were sharp. She had a full dance card and left all of her partners dazzled in her wake. The ball ended with a crescendo of fireworks at midnight. She rode home with Aunt Louisa and Uncle Drake, the tires of the Pierce Arrow humming on the street. Her maid Mary was dozing in her room when Enid entered but she jumped up with a smile, eager to hear how the evening had gone and to help her mistress undress. Enid began telling the girl, only a year younger, about the night's gaiety and held out her right arm to have her glove removed. That's when the screaming began.

I confess that I fell asleep last night after having written only 2 sentences. I napped for about half an hour, then turned off the light and conked out. Before running off to do a couple errands with Mom I wrote the rest, but I did have the idea last night, I just had a little execution problem. I'm off to mow.
--Barbara