Well, it’s official. I need drawing lessons. I sat by the tobacco and sketched while my wife attacked a furniture reject she found at a dumpster. She knows how to draw and also put harmony back on track. Not me. I practice my limitations daily and dream way too much. Still, after each failure, I always make sure to color it in! Fools can have virtue too, you know… After they finish. I can’t draw, but with decent preservation, I bet our great grandkids will hang this on their wall one day, and tell visitors their own story of us. Way long after the fake Internet archive is dead.
A good Saturday morning to pull garlic and weed around the edible weeds. And I promise to keep the pencil at bay.