Remember That Monday Sky?

I intended to eat my breakfast out on the patio once I'd blogged.  By the time I was pouring the Cheerios it was spitting rain.  Those puffy white clouds had been pushed aside by their dark brethren.  Gah.  But I forged ahead, slicing fresh mango to top my cereal, and by that time the drops had stopped falling and I was able to eat outdoors.  I plan to try that again today.  

I sold a tank!  A priest (yes, priests can dive if they want to and know how) stopped in to pick up his serviced regulator (the breathy thing) and drop off his tank for service but didn't want to have to wait the week it'll take.  Also he doesn't live in town so 2 tanks will give him more chances to dive before he needs airfills.  Don't worry, I'm absolutely certain he didn't pay me out of the collection plate (since he didn't pay with a bag full of dimes, pennies, and wrinkled dollar bills).

OMG you guys, I got a letter yesterday.  A real letter.  An actual, handwritten letter on stationery.  See, I read this blog, Yarnagogo, and the blogger is a writer and a knitter like me, and she asked for letters to motivate her to go to the post office to mail some things she needed to mail.  I like letters and I like writing so I pulled out some fish stationary and wrote her a letter.  She wrote me back.  Now I'll wait a suitable time until I have something to say back and then write again, then she'll write again... that's how this letter thing works.  You gotta write 'em to get 'em.  One of the ladies up at The Clearing when I was there last time said she writes letters all the time.  In fact, she said she wrote and mailed 8 of them that week.  EIGHT!  Gives me hand cramps just thinking about it.  But I wrote one to my Aunt Ginny and my Darling Daughter too.  Let's see if I get some back from them.  Ooh, this is exciting!

June 18--Charles Courtney Curran, Betty Newell.  Betty was too young for the tennis party.  She knew how to play but she didn't always understand the conversations and jokes, and she was too young to drink anything stronger than lemonade.  Her brother, William, was home from college with a threesome of friends who were staying the week.  They stayed up late at beach bonfires and out in cars, then they slept until nearly noon, played cut-throat tennis, swam, had supper with the family (neckties required), and were off again.  One of William's friends wasn't quite the wildman as the others.  Morton read in the mornings out on the lawn while the others slept and actually made it a point to talk to Betty.  She had a bit of a crush on him.  She knew she was too young but he sought her out and made sure to sit by her at the dinner table.  Yesterday they were out on the lawn sitting under the willow by the lake talking about books when William and Dodd called Morton to come in to play billiards.  Morton stood up to go and then he leaned over and kissed her cheek.  Just like that, he kissed her.  She must have sat there stunned for ten minutes before she raised her hand to touch the place his lips had brushed.

I'm off to walk Porter, or let Porter walk me, and I've got a big bag of peels and stems for Henny & Penny. It's a pretty, cool day with lots of sunshine so it's a great day for a walk.  I'll be stopping by the bank to cash my paycheck too. Toodles.
--Barbara