It was a rainy May 1 and now, just as the sun is setting, it's bright enough to cast long shadows in the grass. My galoshes are in the entry. I'd like to think that my puddle jumping days aren't over. Yet a flute of something sparkling, a cozy armchair and a book are more enticing.
This reminds me of a conversation I learned in German class long ago. I probably can't spell it correctly anymore.
Ich can nur meine gumishoe nicht finden.
Darf ich dir helfen? Sind sie feilicht unter dem schtool?
Nein, hier sind sie: hinter die tur.
This is the closest I've ever come to using words about losing my galoshes.
5" x 7" $1210
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