Rained out.

As I write this I can hear a cardinal singing outside my window. the enticing smell of breakfast bacon fills the air, and I feel something I haven't felt in a long time--contentment.  This morning my sister told me of a dream she had last night, she and Gwen were together, and Gwen said that she was her BFF.  She is here with us.

Soon we'll leave for the barn concert.  We're excited; promises to be a lot of fun.

Later. . .it's very late at night, this will be brief.  The first half of the concert was great; met John and Amy and Brooke and many of their friends, the food was great, the music was as promised--then came intermission and a thunderstorm that included a downpour and the loss of electricity in the barn where the band was to play.  We came home earlier than planned, and feeling disappointed at not being able to see the show through to the end.

It was strange tonight, Dear, during the picnic lunch I would get up to go talk with someone and then think to myself that I had to get back and not let you sit by yourself.   It was my sister, Mary, of course, and I was grateful for her companionship.  The whole outing tonight was filled with memories of times you and I spent together up here when my friend Tom and I would teach a summer class for EMU--the motels we stayed at, restaurants we ate at, places we visited. . .