Sunday, August 2, 2026, 62.6* F, 85% RH, 062l
Fog changes the landscape, colors the sky, both obscure the sun that sends no rays, is not bright, is not seen. Like snowflakes unable to melt, confetti from the shredder lies on a shelf in front of bare trees in winter, a watercolor next to the book “Transformation.”
Zsolt wanted to come through the gate with me, the other two already through the open door into the house. He doesn’t need a leash. I leave him inside the fence watching my every step. When I return with the foggy picture, Ruger lies at the top of the ramp.
Last night I tried to place curtain rod brackets on the wall using Alien Tape. One of the three fell almost immediately finding its way under a bookshelf. The same brackets I tried to install weeks ago, when I broke a drill bit. He came with his ruler, his pencil, his drill.
Bless those who come to our rescue when our own efforts fail.
Photo: LJ Austin.
