I woke up to a wet world this morning.   It was no longer raining but had done a pretty good job during my sleeping time.    Roxie waited until 6Am to wake me up to feed her.   Very good.   Then when I went back to bed for an hour, she nagged me for the entire hour.  I don't know what her problem was.   She settled down when I settled down at my desk to watch the news and catch up on my email.     I actually think she wanted me out there so she could be on the desk but WITH ME.

I left the house with time to stop at the post office to be sure there was no mail for the Condo Assn., stop at the Pig to pick up my lottery ticket and leave a poster for the Cooler by the Lake: the Poets of Mead event, and leave a poster at the Pick and Save also before getting to Mom's by 9:45AM.

This is the day that John Swart came to the house with Travis Gross, the new director of the Sheboygan Historical Museum, Tamera Lange, the collections coordinator and an intern from the museum to collect the model plane and dummy shell that were given to us after the event from Mother.   We had decided that this would be the best place to preserve them and their memory.   Tamera took pictures of Mother presenting the plane with us around her in her chair.   The pictures are great.   

John has prepared a book called Friendly Fire - March 17, 1958 with all to the information that he has compiled about the event, including pictures and newspaper articles.    He gave one to Mother, Jeff and myself.   He can make more.  I am thinking of offering him, or just taking him some paper to help the cost for him.

This afternoon, we had our Tallgrass Condo Board meeting.   They are always rather tedious, but that is the nature of them.   We did get a  lot done and I will be busy with my Secretary wrap up for the next day or so.  As I walked home, there was thunder booming to the north but the sun was shining.   It had rained during the two hours we were at the meeting.

So.I don't have to go anywhere tomorrow.  Good.   I have a lot to do here.    I mentioned that I finished cleaning the garage.   I took SO much trash out this morning and the garage now LOOKS clean.   Yea.

Dia Dhuit

Mary

A short poem from a dear departed poet friend, Patricia Monaghan

This is the hour that I love, the in-between
Neither here-nor-there hour of evening.
The air is tea-colored in the garden.