HERE

Back when I was in college, a girl (Abby) in our circle of friends was really attractive; we all were convinced of it. Then one of our mothers showed up and we introduced her. The first thing she said when she was alone with her daughter was to remark that Abby didn’t have good features at all. Oh? The daughter told this to us, her friends, and we were all surprised, as she had been.

But, actually, when you came to really think about it, to picture Abby in your mind, we had to agree the mother was correct. To be quite truthful, Abby was not only unattractive, she was homely. It was her personality, of course, that had grabbed us the moment we met her. We thought she was beautiful; we still do.

My mother in NE LaGrange County says the sky is lightening up and if the usual pattern holds, we should be seeing some sun in NW Noble County in a few minutes. Do like the Whos and cry, “Sun, we are here. We are here.”

UPDATE: Thank you, thank you, thank you. I almost see shadows outside because the sun is almost out. I had about given up and then, the total gloom lifted. Summer is throwing up; I almost typed “puking” and I don’t know why. I don’t talk that way. Now, please shout: “Flu Spirit – AmeliaJake is not here. AmeliaJake is not here.”

Here I sit, looking out a half wall of windows at shrubs and bits of sky. Even with the light on, I can differentiate sky from shrub – it is not just a dark mass. So, dawn is coming. Ah, I think it is a gray sky again. Well, that is ultimately okay, although I could use a good dose of sunlight.

Yesterday was a teaser day – first sun and clear sky, then clouds rolled in when they weren’t predicted (not surprised), then the sun picked out in changing blue pools . . . and finally, finally, the sky was one big piece of construction paper azure blue again. But it was late in the afternoon and chilly to cold; in the backyard, the leaves were frozen to the ground, so I propped the rake against the side of the house and popped back inside.

Another sick one is on the sofa, up half the night with a sore throat. Drat.

Still, we await the day so we can carpe it and gather our rosebuds.