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Sunday, June 28, 1998
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I finally figured out that they were adding water to the sand, which allowed them to build structures that were as solid as concrete. They were also building things like arches and open-domed buildings, and it turned out that they were using tree limbs (with leaves attached) as armatures inside these structures. I still wasn't sure that I would be able to build things like that, but I was glad to find out the method.
I sat down at the computer and tried to duplicate it in Bryce, but couldn't get the effect I was looking for. I'll try again tomorrow.
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I spent the day at my parents' house today, went out for lunch and ended up staying through dinner. I took a few pictures. My mom and dad had spent most of the week looking for a nursing home for my aunt (my mom's sister), and they also keep my sister's kids during the week while my sister works, so they were pretty exhausted. They're over 70, but they work hard every day which, frankly, probably keeps them young, although I would have liked to see them have a little easier retirement. I took my mother over to my aunt's after lunch to give her her pills and be sure she was okay. My folks do that three times a day. Fortunately, she only lives a few minutes away. She'll be moving into the nursing home on Wednesday, so while I'm sure they'll be over there quite often, they won't have to do it on a particular schedule.
My parents still live in the house where I grew up. It sits at the top of a small hill, and at the bottom of the hill is a creek where my sisters and brother and I spent a lot of summer days climbing in the weeping willows, catching crawdads, and wading on the rocks. A couple of times during the summer when we would get a big thunderstorm, the creek would overflow its banks and flood up to the base of the hill, which was always exciting. The water would rush by like a river and we'd put on boots and slickers and go down and watch it go by.
My mother has a rock garden that runs up one side of the hill, and a vegetable and flower garden at the bottom. I always come home from a visit with a few plants; today it was four tiny mimosa trees, each about two inches high. The mimosa tree is really a tropical tree, I think, but my mother has had great success in getting them to grow. They have tiny leaves that close up at night, and feathery pink flowers. I've never been able to get one to grow past a few inches, but she keeps sending me home with them. Maybe someday I'll be successful.
I also brought home a typewriter (my dad's $5.00 garage sale buy), a pedometer that he got for a quarter, some grocery store coupons, and a salt-and-pepper set that my sister brought over for me. Unfortunately, I left my dinner leftovers (tuna casserole which could have been a nice snack about now) in my mom's refrigerator. Oh well.
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I think I've mentioned before that I have a favorite brand of casual clothing--Fresh Produce. When we go on vacation to Florida I always buy a couple of pairs of shorts and a cropped t-shirt or two at the Fresh Produce store on St. Armand's Circle in Sarasota. I occasionally find something somewhere else, too--a t-shirt at the San Diego Zoo, a dress that Bob bought for me in Phoenix--but I've never seen another store devoted to the brand. They make all cotton knit clothes in faded solid colors (they make other kinds, too, but those are the kind that I like).
I opened up the Sunday newspaper magazine this morning and there was a little story about a new store that just opened in a neighboring town--a Fresh Produce store! They also sell (how clever) real fresh produce--they are apparently experienced produce dealers and also sell fruit along with the shorts and tops. Well, whatever works, I guess. I've been thinking that I would really like to have a few more items of casual clothing since I'm going to be home for a few more weeks this summer. And who knows, I may end up wearing shorts to work, too, although maybe not right away. So tomorrow afternoon I'm planning on making a shopping trip to see if I can get some new stuff.
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Copyright © 1998 Willa G. Cline