I'm up late working on the Slippery Goodstuff play. I just checked email and got this letter from my mom-- she's a night owl, too.
Hi, Son,
Peanut was in Dvirnak's field. He'd jumped over the cattle guard. . .! Your dad is brainstorming on a contraption with waving ropes, to be hung above the cattle guard. He hopes it will inhibit cattle-guard hopping in the future.
I'm up late baking banana bread, because I bought some very ripe bananas today. The kitchen smells good!
Much love, Mom
I'm not sure why these two paragraphs strike my fancy, but they do. I guess they capture the idealized essence of my gracefully aging parents: Rob and Mary Sand (from Killdeer, North Dakota).
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