Sunday, November 5, 2017


I was waiting for L to come home the other day, and got so entranced by her front porch things that I almost wanted her to be late.  This broken ceramic hand with its appendages, the specimens from the bone table—

And out in the dried up frost bitten garden by our front porch one of the dwarf hibiscuses is putting forth blooms as though it were still August.

I can never resist pulling into the driveway by the white barn and sketching the leisure bulls.  

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