Thanksgiving

    Thanksgiving has come and gone. Some of you had big family celebrations, as was the case in the Kraft household.

      Some of you went out to eat somewhere where someone else would do all the cooking and cleanup afterward. Such was the case with the Zabitzes.

      Some of you cooked at home, a small get-together of just two. Such was the case at the Lubys' mountain home.

      And some of you cooked prime rib for Thanksgiving. And that’s what my handsome brother David did.

      Then some of you went in search of the perfect Christmas tree. Just as my youngest and very handsome brother John did with his youngest son.

        However you celebrated, I hope you took a moment to give thanks for the truly important things in life. Almighty God, fabulous family, and wonderful friends.

       Mike and I picked a relatively warm day and went up to the drilling site. This is my first view of the pad and rig from the road.

         This place is amazing!

         “It’s like a city up here,” Mike said.

         We counted twelve mobile home size trailers. “They can’t all be offices, can they?” I asked.

         “Maybe they live here. They work twenty-four hours a day, two weeks on and two weeks off,” Mike said.

We sat on the hill above the site for more than half an hour and watched the comings and goings.

          A fuel truck came up the hill.

          “I wonder which tank holds the diesel,” Mike mused and tried to calculate the cost of a tankard of diesel.

          The truck stopped outside the gate.

          One of the men started to climb the tower. We’re assuming they have to manually add a new section of pipe.

          While watching him I see a metal piece going down the line. “I bet it’s power assist,” I told Mike.

           When he came out and started down, the counterweight traveled back up the line, his legs dangled and he let it do all the work, confirming my suspicions.

          “You see those shiny rings on the pipes?” Mike asked.

         “Yeah?”

          “They bring the pipe in in sections, probably forty-foot, and weld them together.”

          We watched a water truck leave and another take his place.

          “Those are water tanks,” Mike stated the obvious but for no other reason than he was trying to figure the layout. “The tall ones next to it might be the fracking sand.”

          We know that all the contaminated fracking solution has to be collected, trucked out, and de-contaminated, so some of the tanks are probably for storage of that as well. But that’s all we know.

          The diesel truck started to move. We watched as he was directed to pull in then back up.

          From our vantage point, we couldn’t tell which tank he was pumping into. 

          The whole thing fascinates Mike. “Can you image the amount of planning and know-how it takes to make this whole thing work? From what goes where to who does what.”

          That part doesn’t mystify me in the least. “They have engineers to figure all that stuff out.”

          From our house, just before full dark, you can see the top of the tower and the bright, bright, really bright lights.

          In the foreground you can just make out the Robinsons’ barn — shed. I don’t know what they call it, I just know that’s it’s open in the front and they park things like tractors and other equipment in it.  

     

          Mike’s recovering well from his hernia repair. I say that, but he had a minor setback and a couple of days' soreness when Raini jumped on his belly when he wasn’t expecting it. He’s feeling well enough that’s he’s gone back to work finishing the inside of the patio enclosure.

          Me? What have I been doing?

          I’m so glad you asked!

          I’m working on homemade Christmas cards! It was easy to go down a rabbit hole on You Tube and not come up for hours. There is so much stuff on cardmaking it gets overwhelming.

          “Why don’t you go in the back and get that box of Christmas cards your mom sent you? It’d be easier,” my handsome mountain man asked.

He doesn’t understand my need to make things, but someone who does is my beautiful neighbor Steph. “I just finished my homemade Christmas cards!! So much fun to make.”

          “I’d love to see what you’ve made,” I replied and she sent me pictures! Who loves pictures more than me‽

         “Beautiful!” And they are! They look professional. Mine’ll probably look like they’re made by a five-year-old. Then I wanted to know, “Did you buy the stuff or cut it on your Cricut? Did you use stamps?”

“Stamps yes,” Steph answered. “Cut all the paper with my paper cutter. Nothing on the Cricut.”

“What’s a paper cutter?”

“This is the one I use.” Steph sent me another picture.

Oh! I have one of these! Momma gave me one many many years ago! I’ve used it occasionally but I never thought of it when Steph said paper cutter.

          If you go into a craft store or the craft section of any store you’ll find all kinds of fancy-schmancy papers, embellishments, and stamping supplies for any holiday. I’m not into stamping but I have a Cricut and wanted to make my own paper and embellishments.

          I printed a handful of fancy papers.

          As for layouts? “I’m copying yours,” I told Steph. “If you don’t care.”

          “Go for it,” she said.

          Although that was my intention, I didn’t use a single one of her designs, but I’ll get to that.

          The first person I thought of when I sat down to make my very first card was another one of my beautiful friends, Trish in West Virginia. She loves flamingos and just so happens, I had Christmas flamingos in a file in my computer. While looking for it I found a tri-fold card that I thought I could make.

That would be cute with a Christmas flamingo over the flap, I thought and set to work to make it.

My first challenge was learning the Print Then Cut feature on my Cricut. I’d never needed it before. My second challenge was getting the machine set so it would cut the whole way through the card stock I was using.

“Why not just send the cards you have?” Mike asked after I fooled with that all day.

My third challenge was what to use to assemble them with.

When I was researching this, in every video they were using tape runners. Some of them were big fancy tape guns. The more economical ones look like the white-out rollers. I found a pack of twelve of those for about fourteen dollars.

Did I buy it?

NO!

I have Elmer’s Glue! I’ll just use that!

Guess what? Elmer’s Glue makes the papers wrinkle.

I have a glue stick, Methinks. I’ll try that!

It took a little digging but I finally found my glue stick. It didn’t have a lot left in it and I thought I had another in a box from my old work desk in the wayback, but despite a ten-minute search, I couldn’t find another one.

Back to the computer I went and found a twelve pack of Elmer’s Disappearing Purple Glue Sticks for a third of what double-sided sticky tape would cost. Thrifty me clicked the BUY NOW button. It would be here the day after Thanksgiving. In the meantime, I had one to work with.

The glue was a little messy to work with because I wanted to get it to the edge but all in all it worked fairly well.

Beings as it was my first card, I didn’t have many papers made and I wasn’t especially happy with it. Before I made another card I’d need more paper choices both in color and pattern. Back to my computer I went and printed more papers, more embellishments and more Christmas quotes for the inside of my cards. And I looked for more design ideas. There’s a webpage where a lady has designed over 500 different styles of cards! After trying to copy one or two I came to the realization that it doesn’t matter. Just use lots of interesting shapes and layers and colors. That’s the key!

That handsome Lamar Kipp and his sidekick Tux stopped for a visit after I’d made about a half dozen cards. I was proud of the improvements I was making.

“Here’s the first one I made,” and handed him the flamingo card. “It looks like a five-year-old made it.”

Lamar laughed. “Nah. Maybe six.”

I laughed.

Then I showed him the next one and the next one and the next.

“Very nice,” he said handing them back.

By the time I’d made four cards I’d started adding bits of lace. I was so blessed to have been given a huge lot of craft supplies. Tons of beads and tons of ribbon. All different colors and sizes. At the time I didn’t know what I’d ever use lace for.

I was running out of glue and my Amazon order wouldn’t be here for a couple of more days. What else could I use?

I once saw a video where a crafter used an iron and a piece of plastic wrap to adhere a napkin to a surface. Would it work for paper? I wondered.

I got out the plastic wrap and my iron. I made the plastic wrap a little smaller than the paper I wanted to stick, put parchment paper over top and ironed it. I was really pleased when it stuck like glue! Not so pleased when it cooled off and came apart. Oh well. We’ll chalk that one up to experience.

“I need to go to town,” Mike said. “You wanna go along?”

I pushed back from my card making. “Sure! If I can pop into Dollar General for some glue sticks,” I told him.

“Why don’t you just use the cards you have?” This was maybe the umpteenth time he’s asked me. “It’d be cheaper.”

That reminded me of a funny that came up on my Facebook feed.

“It can’t cost that much,” I said. While I was in DG, I bought a pack of colored construction paper for a few bucks. Sometimes I just needed a solid color and I thought it would be cheaper than using printer ink to print my own.

I get home and see the pack of construction paper had been opened. There was a neat slit cut from one side to the other. Just for shits and grins I counted the paper. It was two pieces short. I just shook my head and laughed. If they’d’ve asked me for two pieces I would’ve given it to them.

Later in the day, or maybe it was the next day, I took my handful of cards down to show my Miss Rosie. I handed her the first one along with my comment about a five-year-old making it.

“Aww, it’s cute.” She loves me.

Then I narrated what I didn’t like and what I did to improve them as I handed her each card.

“Those look really nice,” Miss Rosie said.

At home, my fancy-schmancy printed papers were taking over the table. I need something to keep them in, I thought and went for a box. I cut it down to tray size and used it to keep my papers corralled. I used a smaller box for bits. Scrapbookers never throw small pieces of paper away, they just find someplace else to use them.

Tiger.

Tiger, Tiger, Tiger.

“Meow!” he says and climbs into my paper box.

“How can I get my papers out if you’re lying on them‽” I asked.

He laid down and blinked at me.

It reminded me of those lovely Kipps. They keep a box on the table just for their gray cat, Flannel. She loves to lay on it and it’s been a fixture on the corner of their table for years.

I got up, took all my papers out, put the box on top of my desk, and showed it to Tiger. He’s spent every day in there since.

“What did you do with all your papers then?” you ask.

I went in the back and got another box. This time, instead of grabbing the first one I thought was the right size and cutting down the sides like I did the first time, I dug through the tower and found one that had held cans at the Aldi store, was just the right size, and no cutting required. It was perfect, and something I’d never’ve of found if Tiger hadn’t commandeered my first one.

The stack of cards I made was steadily growing. Mike wandered out from the living room and I eagerly showed him my newest creations.

“Uh-huh,” is all he ever says unless he’s asking, “Why don’t just send the cards you already have.”

But it was while handling the cards that I heard an ominous crack. I bent the card a little more and heard a crinkle.

“Uh-oh,” I said.

I bent it back and forth a few times to a symphony of snap crinkle-crinkle snick snap crackle pop. I wanted to see if my cards were going to fall apart. It didn’t fall ALL apart but about half of one of the cards came lose. I guess I now know why they use tape instead of glue. I got back online and ordered tape runners. They’d be here Saturday. In the meantime, I had to listen to my handsome mountain man once again lecture me on, “You get what you pay for!”

“What are you going to do with the cards you already made?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know. They’ll be okay if they don’t bend them back and forth.”

“And they only have to last until Christmas. Then they’ll throw them away,” he pointed out.

There’s that, too.

My phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and it was our neighbor Steph. “Hey girl!” I answered in my happy cheerful voice.

“What’cha doing?” she wanted to know.

“Nothing, why?”

“I have today off and I’m on my way home from putting tires on my car and thought I’d stop and visit,” she said.

“Great! Stop!”

When she got here and settled, I showed her the cards I was making.

“Here’s the first one,” I said and handed her the flamingo card.

“Oh Peg,” she said. “You can do better than that.” I handed her the next card. “See! I knew you could do better than that!”

She looked at all my cards then we spent the next couple of hours playing Mexican Train Dominos. It was like the best afternoon we’ve had in a really long time. Mostly because Train Dominos is so much fun but not when there’s only two people playing.

After she left, I went back to card making.

“How many cards are you going to make?” I know you wanna know.

And the truth is, I don’t know. My cards aren’t perfect. Some of the cards I put on are crooked, the glue smudged, the printer left lines. But I’d love to send one to anyone who wants one. If you don’t care, don’t do anything, and I may or may not send you one. If you do want a homemade-with-love-card-by-Peg, let me know and I’ll be sure to send you one. If you’re not into Christmas all that much and don’t want a Christmas card, I’d like to know that as well so I don’t send you one.

          And if your name is Trish and you see the crappy first card I made for you, don’t worry. Now that I’ve got some experience under my belt, and a new supply of printer ink, I’ll try again.

>>>*<<<

          I know you’ll be sad if I don’t include at least one puppy story or maybe two.

          The other night we were watching TV, I in my recliner, Bondi under the covers beside me, Mike in his recliner, and Raini was gone. I don’t know where she went or what she was doing but I didn’t hear anything so I didn’t worry overly much.

          Pretty soon I hear the flap, Raini comes in and jumps up on the couch. Then she starts tossing something around. Usually she does this when she’s got a toy or chew stick but when she tossed it and it landed on the floor, it was a dark blob.

          “What is that?” I asked, tossed the covers off, put the recliner down, and went to look. “She’s got a mouse!”

          I grabbed Raini’s collar to keep her on the couch while I picked the mouse up by the tail. I don’t know where she got it. It was pretty stiff and I don’t know how long it’d been D-E-D dead. Much to Raini’s disappointment, and despite her leaps to snag the dangling mouse from my fingertips, I carried it out and tossed it over the fence.

I haven’t put any cat food out in the cat room since we brought Sugar in for the winter. I have no idea if I have any other feral cats coming to the cat room or not and I’m not going to feed the possums or coons that are small enough to get in there.

          I haven’t put any cat food out on the kitchen patio since Mr. Mister disappeared and I don’t know that I’ve had any nighttime visitors there since.

          The other night it was almost bed time when we hear Raini barking. Bondi went to investigate then added her voice to Raini’s. After listening to them bark for a while, Mike went to check.

          “What is it?” I asked.

          “I think they’ve cornered a mouse,” Mike said.

          The barking became more frantic and I was tired of listening to it. I decided I’d go help them get the mouse and the drama and noise would be over. I grab a flashlight and when I went out I see Raini’s butt in the air as she’s trying to get under a cabinet, backing out, running from one side to the other. Bondi took a turn trying to get under but soon backed out and gave me room to get down on my hands and knees and shine the light under only to discover something larger than a mouse.

          “Possum?” you ask.

          Yep. They had a possum cornered. It took some doing but I finally snagged Bondi, carried her in the house, put her in Raini’s kennel and went back for Raini. That little girl can run circles around me! But I did finally get her. Then I locked the pet door so they couldn’t go back out that night. In the morning the first thing the girls did was look for him but he was gone.

I’m not much into tricks or training dogs. I just don’t care about that. But I would like them to listen to me when I tell them to stop. Bondi? She’s little and doesn’t hurt me when she jumps up on my shins. When Raini jumps up, her paws land on your thighs.

“Step on her back toes,” you say.

Tried. She’s on to that little trick. She’ll jump up, as soon as I reach to step on her toes, she’s down. Then I just push past her as she tries to wind around my legs and give her no attention. It’s not working all that well. Both dogs are just so darn excited when we get home.

Up until this point, the girls just got up in the recliner together to wait for us to get home. At least as near as we can figure.

Then we came home to this! I know it’s Raini that’s tearing up the blanket.

“What’s the blanket on there for?” you wanna know.

When we had the Yorkies, Ginger would get in the chair and scratch to make her bed. The seat was starting to get tore up so Mike started covering it to keep it from getting worse.

“Strings are bad for dogs,” I told Mike. And the next few times we left I kenneled Raini. Then we tried letting her stay out of the kennel again hoping she was over tearing up the blanket but no go. When we got home, the blanket was torn even more.

“She’s going to keep at it,” I said. “We’ll have to cover it with something else or keep her kenneled.” Then I had a flash of inspiration. “Or we could put stuff in the chair so they can’t get up there.”

Mike didn’t like that idea. “Nah. It’s not fair to kennel Raini if she needs to go out. And they like to be in the chair.”

The next time we left, we left Raini out and Mike covered the torn blanket with another blanket and she left it alone.

I have managed, in just a few days, to end one of her bad habits.

If I’m at my desk and she wants a rump scratching, she’ll scratch me.

“OW!” I yell. “STOP! BAD DOG!” She’ll stop and sit. I say, “Good girl,” and give her the scratch she was asking for.

I know! I know! I’m slow! All she knows is she’s getting her scratch.

I’ve amended my ways. If she scratches at me, I yell, “OW! STOP!” and show her the front of a fist, signaling stop. She sits down and looks up at me with those adoring puppy eyes. “Find another way to tell me you want a scratch,” I tell her, then ignore her completely.

          I’d say within a matter of hours, having repeated this a couple of times, she came up and bumped my leg with her nose. “Good girl,” I told her, turned from the computer and gave her a good scratching. Now she does that all the time.

          I have to be really vigilant, especially when I’m absorbed in what I’m doing, because a nose bump is so gentle compared to a scratch and I could miss it. I don’t want her going back to scratching me.

          Raini only comes to me when I call if she wants to. But if I tell her to get in her kennel, she’ll go. For that I’m very thankful.

          What else am I thankful for?

          You! You’re all in my heart.

          Let’s call this one done!

 

First Snow

         We had our first snow this week. It was fun to watch Raini run and jump and snap at the fluffy fat flakes as they fell. (Say fluffy fat flakes three times fast!)    

     

          Once it started to accumulate, Raini raced through the yard, kicking up snow behind her. I laughed but by then it was too dark for me to get any pictures.

          The forecast was for it to turn to rain overnight so on my last trip out with the girls for the evening, I took a flashlight. Between that and the porch light, I tried to get a picture of the snow for you. I didn’t want you to miss it.

          I need not have worried. The forecasters were wrong. We never got any rain and the snow was still there in the morning, but it didn’t last long. 

          Since I have more Riani pictures in the file this week, let’s keep going with her.

          With the weather turning cooler, the boys, Spitfire, Blackie, and Tiger, have been spending more time in the house. Spitfire has developed a love of Raini’s bed under my desk and lays in it whenever it’s empty.

Raini wasn’t and isn’t happy about this arrangement. At first, she tried barking at him to get him to move. 

He just looked at her. When she nipped his leg, he hissed and swatted at her.

          She went around to the other side and I was almost certain she was going to pull the bed out from under him, but she only thought about it.

          It’s Raini’s bed so I picked Spitfire up. Once Raini was settled, I put him down. He still wanted to lay in the bed and Raini let him lay with her. 

I’ve even seen Raini climb in next to Spitfire if he was there first, but not often. Most of the time she’ll just go find someplace else to lay. Her second favorite spot is a chair at the table.

To give Raini a place to lay, I went into the other room and brought out another bed for her to lay in. I put this one under the table where it would be out of the way.

          But under my desk is her favorite place to be.

          The bed under the table makes for a good hiding spot when she has a yummy she doesn’t want to share with Bondi. Like say, for instance, a strawberry jam jar.

          “Peg! What’s that white stuff all over the floor‽” you wanna know.

          Yeah. Another stuffed animal bites the dust! 

          But don’t fret. I’ve found a way to give the stuffing new life.

          “How’s that?” you ask.

          I’ll use it to pad a box I send to my beautiful West Virginia gal. She’ll use it in the things she makes.

          We had a bunch of running this week.

          Bondi had a vet appointment to get a shot so that was one trip to Towanda.

          The next day Mike had an appointment in Towanda with the Area Agency on Aging. They’ll compare your Medicare plans and see if there’s a better deal for you out there.

          Mike always tries to compare plans on his own but he gets so confused. He saw a commercial on TV about a place to call to get help (this was before we made the appointment with AAA). He called. That was a M-I-S-T-A-K-E mis—take! He’s been getting a dozen or more calls a day.

          “He could block them,” you say.

          He’s been doing that. He’s blocked about two hundred numbers but they just keep calling on a different number. Mike even tried telling them to take him off the list and don’t call anymore but who knows how many companies have his number.

          On our way to Towanda we got behind a long line of trucks carrying equipment for the gas wells.

“Why are they going so slow?” Mike wondered.

          I didn’t care why. “Better to go slow and be safe,” I told him. The slow ride down the mountain gave me a chance to see all the places Bittersweet can grow. 

          The collision repair places are full to overflowing this time of year and right here is the reason why. No telling how many times he got run over but there isn’t much left of this poor guy.

          “Eww, Peg! We didn’t need to see that!” you say.

          I know, right! But everyone who drove past here got to see this, unless you’re like my beautiful old friend, Carolyn.

          We were going someplace and I always try to identify what’s been hit on the road. “What was that?” I asked her.

          “I don’t know,” she said. “I always look the other way.”

          We had to wait when we got to AAA because Mike believes that if we’re not at least a half hour early then we’re late. We ended up waiting about forty minutes but since I had a book I was reading I didn’t mind too much.

          “What are you reading now?” you wanna know.

          I’m so glad you asked! I’m reading The Dark Hours by Michael Connelly. It’s a novel with Harry Bosch in it. He’s not the main character but LAPD detective Renee Ballard has enlisted his aid in helping her solve a murder. You might not know that name but Bosch was a detective show that Mike and I got hooked on, despite the strong language. At any rate, this book has kept me turning pages until the wee hours of the morning.

          When it was our turn to see Janice, the lady we had an appointment with at Area Agency on Aging, we discussed options and she found a plan for Mike that would save us seven hundred dollars a year on his prescriptions.

          “I always get so confused about this stuff,” Mike told Janice.

          I laughed. Mike looked at me. “Tell her about the mistake you made.”

          Mike told her about calling a phone number he saw advertised on TV. “Hopefully they’ll stop calling after the December deadline.”

          “Not necessarily,” she told him. I don’t remember why she said, but Googling it I see you have until January fifteenth.  The December deadline is if you want to have the coverage go into effect by January first. 

          On the way home I spot a hawk sitting in a tree beside the road. “That’s how they get killed,” I told Mike. “They dive for prey and get killed diving in front of vehicles.”

           We hit snow flurries as we were getting into Wyalusing.

A flock of birds took flight from a tree right in front of us.

Crossing the Rainbow Bridge, climbing to our mountain home. 

For as hard as the flurries were coming down, we didn’t get any accumulation out of it.

          We drove past our house and down to see the tower they put up on the gas pad for the new wells they’re drilling.

          “Are they drilling closer to us?” Sally asked on our morning love call.

          “No, why?” I asked.

          “Because I don’t remember ever looking out my window and being able to see the tower before.”

          “Nope. It’s right on the same pad. Maybe it’s a taller tower?” I suggested. I didn’t pay any attention to it when they put the first well in but I noticed too that you could see this one over the tree line.

          Friday was our third trip out. Three days in a row is exhausting for a homebody like me. This time we went through Towanda and on up to Sayre. Mike had a post-op checkup with Dr. Barrett, the surgeon who repaired his hernia.

          Close to where I saw the hawk the day before, I see a dead hawk beside the road. Too sad.

          Party balloons on the loose.     

  

Again, we were early and had to wait. Getting lost in a good book makes the time pass quickly.

Mike is doing great and just has a weight limit of lifting no more than twenty-five pounds for another month or so until he’s completely healed.

          On the way home I took a few more pictures.

          A yellow tabby like our Tiger. “Cats that hunt beside the road don’t live long either,” I stated the obvious. I sure hope I didn’t jinx him!

          The sun’s rays over the valley. 

          A hawk taking flight.

          Our beautiful Susquehanna. “Some days the surface is just like glass,” I told Mike.

          “Some days there’s no wind,” he said.

          After a whole day of rain our pond is full to almost overflowing.

          Fruit of the ornamental Bradford Pear.

          And those are the only other pictures I took around our house.

          I did take more than four hundred pictures at our church’s Harvest Dinner. A large part of those were portraits for our church directory.  

          Here’s what handsome, wonderful, generous, kind, caring, and all-around fabulous neighbors look like. I love the Kipps.

          And Shawn, after I took his and his wife’s photo, made sure I wasn’t escaping without having my picture taken, too!

“What, no crafting this week?” you ask.

I did! But with all the running, not as much as I would’ve liked. I made two distressed WELCOME signs. The lady, a cousin to one of my church sisters, ordered two the same.

          “Why didn’t you make them the same?” Mike questioned when I finished.

          “I couldn’t match the stain because the pigments settled in my old can of stain. If she’s not happy with them, she doesn’t have to buy them and I’ll try again.” That would mean starting from scratch and staining both boards at the same time, out of a new can of stain, but I could try to sell these elsewhere.

          I delivered them on Sunday. “They’re even nicer than in the picture,” she said.

          I was so glad to hear that!

          “What’s next?” you ask.

          I’m so glad you asked!

          I don’t have any confirmed porch sign orders but I do have two ladies who’re thinking about it. In the meantime, I think I’d like to gift my family and friends with my time and talent by making Christmas cards this year.

          Not much of a gift, you say.

          Yeah, well, that’s all you’re getting this year.

          I’ve been spending hours at my computer being overwhelmed by the vast quantity of ideas that popped up in my search. I hardly know where to begin, but I’m excited to try.

          Speaking of Christmas cards, I love what one of my Facebook friends is doing. “In lieu of gifts,” she wrote, “send me a card with your favorite recipe and I’ll send you one back with my favorite recipe.”

          I like being on this end of that deal. I only have to do one card. Judging by the responses she got she’ll be writing recipes out from now until Valentine’s Day!

>>>*<<<

          I want to end this week by telling you two things about last week’s letter blog.

          First, I missed posting two pictures of Raini playing with my shirt and added them after a bunch of you had already read it.

          Second, my Miss Rosie. “Do you know how much you look like your mother in that picture?” she asked. “Everyone’s going to ask who that strange man is that Peg’s kissing!”

          I laughed. I’d be proud to look like my beautiful mother.     

 

          Let’s call this one done!