Foggy day and that's a shot through the screen but it's what I have.
I wish with all of my heart that I didn't wake up every morning feeling as if the world was coming to an end.
Oh wait. It might be.
Well, I wish I weren't so depressed about it every morning that I feel as if I could die. I'd say that this is an appropriate response but it was true before Trump soiled the Oval Office too.
Here's a picture of Owen fixing dinner for his brother and sister for himself last night.
Under supervision he made quesadillas and smoothies.
Still no sign of Jack. I called my next door neighbor and left a message and she never called me back which is odd.
Maurice does not miss him.
"Where did you hide the body?" Mr. Moon asked her last night.
She took the Fifth and slinked past him to the food bowl.
And in chicken news, the eggs I thought were coming from Miss Dottie, one of my new hens, are actually being laid by Butterscotch who is ancient and hasn't laid in months. Dottie is laying small ivory-colored eggs like her sister, Miss Darla.
Still no idea where Violet is laying but there must be a huge pile of them by now.
They're still working on the railroad.
All the live long day.