Her shirt is reminiscent of a Bridget Riley and my eyes do a jig.
Our newest recruit is concentrating so hard, peering over a nail that he is banging in, trying not to flatten his finger. When he manages it his face lights up. It made my week.
The pink roses smell delicious. I snip the dead heads and save the petals to show the children at work. 3 boys stash them in a "treasure box" and tape it up. Inviting people to guess what's inside. Then I catch them painting it and the floor dark blue.
Bit of that
Pink roses that follow The Grateful Dead around?
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely beautiful writing, will keep an eye on you! MH
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