Gibbles, in the throws of a laughing fit.
A really neat old bicycle, that mom should grow morning glories on.
Mom sweating in the garden. Wondering how many nasturtiums I have eaten.
Gibbles doesn't like when I take her picture anymore.
Tomorrow, we are helping with the Bayfield Parade. At first I was supposed to be directing traffic in an orange vest. I think they came to their senses, and I will be riding shotgun in a golf cart.
I was envisioning horses colliding with Shriner's, bicycles flying through the air, pure mayhem. The golf cart job seems more apropos. I wonder if I still get to wear the vest? |
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