November reminds me of Aunt Leona. She stopped by our house one gloomy, gray, blustery day after she got off work at Sonoma's, kicked off her shoes, and ran into the front room onto Mom's brand new bright blue carpet. Her coat flapped open and she danced around the room, singing, "The north wind doth blow and we shall have snow! What shall the robin do then, poor thing?"
I have loved gloomy, gray, blustery days ever since that one.
Do you suppose the people who have died know when we think of them? Do they even care? They know what we don't, after all.
Do you know who this person looks like? Think carefully. Look at the hair, the face shape, the whole package. Did you figure it out? She looks just like . . . . . Missy!
I'm having some serious writer's block going on here. Could you tell? Sometimes I post something on here, and an hour later I think of something else. Most times that is not the case. This must be an exercise to ward off Old Timer's Disease, because it makes me think. Correction -- it makes me try to think.
That is the reason for the random pictures. I didn't know what to write, and considering all the thousand or so pictures I've taken, there aren't any that are particularly usable for the blog. The barn/house is in Mantua, like so many pictures I've taken lately, and I really liked it.
I'll put us all out of our misery now, and say good night.