A foghorn blew here all night long, I can hear it right now . . . a rather forlorn sound that I fell in love with the first time I came to Martha’s Vineyard . . . I think it’s the reason I woke up singing my Grandma’s favorite song . . . (this one is fun to watch) . . . now I will sing it all day! Just a little salute to Andy Williams who died two days ago. His voice brings back memories of our living room when I was a little girl, squashed in the nubbly green chair with my book. When he sings, I can smell bacon and pancakes and hot maple syrup my mom is making for dinner, and hear my little sister’s feet kicking in the high chair.
These are the wild asters that grow along the dirt road where Joe and I walk every day. Behind them, a leaf we found on the ground … gracing the little shelf above my kitchen sink. Jack (kitty, not Dad) thinks they are delicious.
Sending love, thinking of you . . . don’t worry, I will do my work today, but those leaves that are calling? I’ll be going out to see them! XOXO