I have tried to learn and each time end up by almost swallowing my own tongue. The Didge player at the concert had cheeks like balloons, though he was no more than 30 years. When he gets to my age, he will have jowls like a hound dog.

The morning's sunrise was glorious. The sky was filled with leaden gray mamato-cumulus clouds, with the exception of a narrow band on the eastern horizon. As this strip of clear sky brightened, it developed distinct layers of color which appeared nearly electric in nature. As the sun approached the horizon, it lit the under side of the cloud, turning it into a field of pink puff-balls. Everything took on a rather brilliant pink cast for nearly five minutes. It went as suddenly as it came, but it was beautiful while it lasted.

SkyEyes' tomato looked so lonely. Almost like the "last rose of summer". I have given up trying to grow anything edible. I do not mind feeding the neighborhood squirrels, but they seem to take great joy in destroying my entire crop. A two-inch, green tomato, when dropped from a height of seventy or eighty feet, will make a terrible mess on the patio. Multiply this by the produce from twelve plants and you will see my predicament. Even moth crystals sprinkled about the base of the plants did little to deter them. Netting did not work, either. The little rascals chewed through it in one day. Ah well, they do make a rather tasty stew, if you soak them in milk for a day or two.