here are some photos from the state fair last night:
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Go 4H!! But that honey display is just gorgeous! All lined up according to darkness.
How do you feel the animals were treated and taken care of? The cows’ digs in your photo look a little sad to me. Any discussion of exile and oppression must include this sort of thing.
Evie, all I can think as I read these posts each day is how utterly delirious Joyce would be to be following this journey, and how bruised I would be if I would be if I were beside her. I know that she would keep pounding on my arm telling me how wonderful this all is and how excited she was. I admit, it used to kind of drive me crazy when she did it about something either you or Spencer was doing but I understand. I wish I had someone to pound on! I am just loving being able to follow along with you. L, C*
I HEAR AMERICA SINGING
I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear;
Those of mechanics–each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and
The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat–the deckhand
singing on the steamboat deck;
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench–the hatter singing as
The wood-cutter’s song–the ploughboy’s, on his way in the morning,
or at the noon intermission, or at sundown;
The delicious singing of the mother–or of the young wife at work–or
of the girl sewing or washing–Each singing what belongs to
her, and to none else;
The day what belongs to the day–At night, the party of young
fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing, with open mouths, their strong melodious songs. – WALT WHITMAN
Love it! Such memories of my youth!