The meal last night was yummy, and myself and Sandra and one of her guests, a fabulously entertaining individual named Clay, had a pleasant chin wag. I recognized him not by his face, which I hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing previously, but by the bottle of Grand Marnier I had been advised he would be clutching. We made one toast with the orange elixir, and I only had another couple of beers, so it was a much less libatious evening for me than last night especially when I knew I was both driving and working the next day.
Sandra is the happiest I’ve ever seen her. Last night she took immense joy in sharing a piece of art with me. There are a couple of reasons this is important.
It’s a great piece of art. Within minutes I could relax because I knew I would be listening to it again.
Sandra had an interpretation of the work of art that not a single other person has been able to distinguish. At least according to the internet… I looked.
Her interpretation was amazing. Accurate. Spooky as all get-out.
The work of art had direct relevance to me and everybody in my family.
More when I’ve processed some more.
It appears that the weather will be perfect for transplanting trees (which Sandra needs to do to help delineate a new campsite) and once breakfast is complete we will go deal with it.
The light right now looks very strange, I’m going to walk around with the camera for a bit.
Sandra has a life size walking doll here, a refugee from her childhood which she found in a box in her mom’s attic. I will have pictures at some point.
