All extremely serviceable and mostly functioning although the griddle on the range isn't working and one of the burners is dead and the top element of the oven works now and then and one really can't predict and the bed is...well, I'm spoiled to heavenly pieces by my bed at home.
A storm did blow through this afternoon and we played cards in the house and then we went over to the Gulf and the men threw lines in the water and Jessie and Greta and I walked to the east and then cut through back to the bay road to home and we had to stop and pull sand spurs from Greta's paws and we talked about what it's like to get older and babies and stuff that mothers who are growing old and daughters who are still so young with everything in front of them talk about.
When we got back I started up the grill with charcoal and now chicken is cooking there and potatoes and wild mushrooms gathered in Asheville are cooking in that old Sears wall oven and the wind is blowing and after awhile we'll all go to bed, me and Mr. Moon in our room, Jessie and Vergil in theirs. There is a football game on the radio and the water is still lapping the shore but now with a flat slap instead of a gulp.
Dog Island. This is what it's like. Tonight at least. This is how it is.