Tuesday dawned wet with rain, and the rains fell off and on all morning.
By noon, the sky was clear, and my meetings were finished, so Nelson and I took a ramble.
The cows were up by the fence today, just a few yards from my back porch:
Nelson thinks cows are something at which to bark.
After lunch (ham salad sandwich, pineapple, grapes), I went the front porch to read. Here’s the report:
I was sitting on his leash and reading a book.And he jerked so hard that the leash went flying, he went flying to chase cattle, and I went flying to chase him, and we ended up panting (both of us) and sweating (me) only after a kind driver stopped a full 1/4 mile away, stepped on his leash, and he (the dog, not the driver) walked with me in shame back to the homestead.He’s an adventurous and brave little shit, and also supremely unaware of danger.
I was at the Episcopal church in Paris, France. Singing Evensong with the choir. One of the readers of scripture that evening was an elegant older lady in a beautiful but simple black dress, with an expensive-looking brooch, and an elegant coif of white hair. She spoke in the most beautiful tones.
That lady was Olivia de Haviland.
She was magic, even reading a portion of a letter from Saint Paul.