Time marches on as we hope for the best on Election Day

 

At a shipyard in Turkey, the boats, including some from Carnival’s Fantasy fleet, are being turned into scrap, even as the industry hopes to find a way to start sailing.

A junkyard's junk.

Rode my bike this morning to Mr. Rogers. Then I looked out front door to make sure everything was intact from what we used to call Mischief Night. 

A-OK.

Am still wearing my comfy PJs.

Will call sister Donna to find out how Leslie is doing.

Did I mention the Bounce House?

Scott thought he was seeing things.

At the house on the corner, Marie had rented a colorful Bounce House for guests of her three children.

All Aboard!

POEM: THE BOUNCE HOUSE

Some nice little girls bounce, knees bent,

one is named Leslie with her blonde hair and blue eyes

another named Bernice, light brown hair, smiling broadly

Mommy, Mommy, thinks Bernice, I need a Bounce House

of my own.

Leslie thinks the same thing. A dog lover, she wonders

if the dog would fall over and bruise her paws.