We took a walk down into the river bottoms late last night...
... on the banks of the East Fork of the Little Miami River.
IN THE COMMENTS: Meade said:
What a wild walk that was. The murder, the music, the ecstasy.
And then the dog got skunked.
To live freely in writing...
What a wild walk that was. The murder, the music, the ecstasy.
And then the dog got skunked.
11 comments:
Are you sure you want to quote those lyrics? That song has a VERY unhappy ending for all concerned.
Happy Mothers' Day! I'm lucky that my mother is still alive - at eighty-eight!
After Ann got engaged I figured that there would be a drop-off in quantity and interestingness of blog posts. Inevitable result of lack of free time, marital bliss, been-there-done-that etc.
One man's meat is another man's poison.
Ern, the photographs should answer that question.
Beautiful song.
The divorce negotiations will have a decidely different backdrop.
By that time, these ritual displays of contrived naivete and fake sentiment will have long evaporated into a haze of post mortems, half-regrets, and self-flagellation.
Here's to the future!
Love,
Maxine
Those are some ominous looking photos. Just sayin'
Well, long after you're more into loving that blogging, I'll keep checking back for the photos!
Funny mixture of grumpiness and wistfulness. I suspect that other than Maxine, we've all got some hopes pinned on this being The Real Thing (which some of us know, and others want to believe, exists), so we're scared.
What a wild walk that was. The murder, the music, the ecstasy.
And then the dog got skunked.
It was a dark and stormy night. Well, dark and cloudy anyway.
The East Fork of the LMR? That's not Indian Hill at all. So Meade manages an estate in... Clermont County???
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