Saturday, September 21, 2024

     Three times a day the Army bugle music blows, reminding us we are a military town.  Just in case we forget.  We are also crowded with visitors. And in between the military and the tourists, it is us the residents. My father was born in Monterey over a hundred years ago.

     The construction trucks are keeping their distance from my drive way now.

     Two nap days. Cold clouded skies.  My deck plants are thriving.  The crops of nasturtiums are galloping forward. The bitter quince fruit fall and rot on the ground in the back yard. This quince tree is huge and has hundreds of yellow uneatable fruit.

     I am now reading another youth book, TURTLES ALL THE WAY DOWN, by John Green. This is my speed during these two nap weeks.