It's been a Dickens sort of summer.
Best of times, worst of times,
with the odd bit of Tiny Tim cheer thrown in.
And we've walked. If walking could sort out the world's
ills, the media hubs would be out of business now.
We've met large men, with kind hearts who told us
of their desire for web-toed shoes, if only they came
in his size. (True story.)
Sweet G commented to me that she thinks during the
summer she soaks up beauty so that she can reset her
energy for the rest of the year.
I am hopeful it will carry us forward with some grace,
and not leave us like Oliver Twist asking for little bit more.