It had to be them. It looks like they got in my
old cigar box while I was sleeping and found the unwrapped crayon pieces I kept
in there. It’s getting harder and harder to hide things. I wonder if I should
tell them I’ve been saving those colors since I was their age. And -- from Lord
knows where, maybe folded in the top of the busted out checker box – they managed
to scrounge a big sheet of wrinkled but barely used blue-sky. Then they set to
work. To their credit, they didn’t try to do anything fancy – a good eye, a
chunk of Granny Smith Apple and a light touch was all they needed to draw an olive-violet
mottled morning memory over the Sound. I’ve
never seen anything like it, but it sure looks familiar. My granddaughters colored
the sky above Nisqually Reach this morning
January 26, 2014
Exit Benya...Enter The Warrens!
10 years ago
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