Camp

Hello

I joined again

In hopes that the muse will come back.

I miss you.   Jake, Dillon, Kerra, and a few others.

The line,  Mery and  more.  The  bike

that sits in the

forest.

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In

dreams there

are places to visit sights

to be seen. Adventures to be found.

I watch, I write I follow these friends, a box to

be opened.  Do I dare? Do I creep behind?

I do! For a rainbow leads the way;

To a goal a treasure

somewhere

new.

17 the next month

 

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March 17 start Celtic Blessings designer Joan Elliott 

It is the day 17 start only a week and a couple of days late.   Honest I did start on March 17.

Here is another picture.

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I had another project planned but somehow the purple robes of a wizard did not fit into the green idea of St Patrick’s Day and I changed my plans.  There is more progress but the darn phone crashed so the picture will have to wait!

Who are you? “snippet”

Jake whispered as he looked down at his plate.  “Mom where did you come from?”

The silence was complete, everything came to a sudden halt as the little family stared at Jake.  His brother paused in mid chew, the muscles of his cheek bulging with mashed potatoes, and his other brother just simply stared, too startled to say anything.

His mother looked at him, though he didn’t see her looking as he was staring at the little pile of green beans that finally gave him the courage to ask the question.  But he could feel the stare, it was almost grinding into his head,  and maybe he should let it in so that she could see what he was thinking, the fear that he would never find a place in this world,  who was his father, after all it wasn’t the man that shared a room with his mother.

His two brothers,  Both of them had been toddlers when his “father” took in a woman who stumbled half dead into the milk house with him large inside.  They had their father’s dark brown hair with differences.  Peter the older one had curls that were tamed only by the base ball hat he wore all the time.  And John’s hair was straight like his father.