That apricot tree grew from a seed that Mama ate and planted, which came from her Blenheim apricot tree. That makes this a second generation tree, but not necessarily a Blenheim according to some experts. The apricots are delicious, Blenheim or not.
I can forget something I thought of minutes ago because I climbed upstairs to the office so I could plop it into the computer. Where are pen and paper when I need them?
Two Sundays ago we stayed overnight in a faraway place and it wasn't because one of us had to have surgery. Hurrah! That's what our last few overnighters had been. Not two Sundays ago. We drove straight across the state to Shaver Lake in the Central Sierra Nevadas. A lot of driving that we weren't used to, but it was well worth it.
How fun it was to zig and zag, to go down a road with matured abandon (mature abandonment? oxymoron phrases, both?).
Left, right, right, right, left. . .too late. oh well, turn right, this road runs parallel. Turn right at…