I’m still in Mineral and my dad is about to paint the porch. It’s supposed to get up to 90 today. Dad was born in 1926. The guy had a pacemaker put in not that long ago. He’s also blind. This is the damndest plan.
But I am clueless how to derail the train. When dad makes up his mind, he’s a genuine force of nature. I guess I’ll just get the long sleeves off him and hope for the best.
I fed apples to two deer and three fawns this morning. They come right up to the house. The lake reflects the trees with only a slight breeze ruffling the west shore into tiny waves, tiny flashes of light.
I can’t draw slips out of my jar, now thousands of miles away, so I guess I’ll just journal. Readers, have you had a parent who was an unstoppable force with a short fuse? Have you had to try to figure out what to do with porch plans?
