Labour Day at the Lake

She wrote with feathers in the sand.  Mostly her name and initials all over the beach.  Kat and I set up some chairs and knit the best we could with the wind whipping about us.  It was the perfect way to spend the last day of summer.  School starts up again tomorrow.  Have I ever mentioned my dislike for packing lunches?   Oh well, I'll always have Saturdays and Sundays.

It looks like she has feathers up her noodle.  By the way, I was silently screaming inside my head about how dirty those feathers were, but the doodle is still alive and well.

I can not believe how anxious I am about the oldest heading to high school tomorrow.  That's super big.  I have to stop thinking about it.  It's making me old, grey and wrinkled.

N