This fleet of bikes left on the lawn next door reminds me that my own number two son still cannot ride one. He is eleven years old, people! and the prospect of riding a bike is hell to him.

Yikes. He doesn't know what he's missing.

I've set him to picking saskatoons along the driveway for $5 a gallon. He got half a pail of big juicy ones in an hour-and-a-half and you can see the cash registers in his eyes.

Emil is away at Camp Easter Seal until next Tuesday. He's normally so quiet, that I hardly even notice that he isn't here.

I am working this afternoon, so this is all the gossip you get.

xoxo
etc
Kate