ford tractor and crazy, unpredictable rope swing in grandma and grandpa’s backyard
Grandpa replaced a few parts (carburetor thingamabobs) on the Ford and got the darn thing running so he could take you-know-who for a ride but Oliver Fern was too scared about the bad loudness so back to the shady spot in the backyard under the maples where the ground is bare dirt and twigs.
After we dropped Oliver Fern off at preschool this morning, Adam and I tried to blend in with the techies and writers (will the last poet turn off the lights on their way out of town?) at Victrola on 15th but we stuck out like sore thumbs so for our second course we moved down to the red picnic tables in front of the Hopvine. After chatting for some time in the pleasantness of the shade, we headed home, terribly startling a hard-of-hearing Lucy on our way into the house.