On the studio porch again. Lit the candles and the oil lamp and turned on the reading lamp.

When the wind blows, the dragon tree heaves as though it were taking deep breaths.

Four children are playing some sort of game of catch with a flip-flop on the driveway. I recall when Nelson and Chito were growing up. Our house had a pool table, a dart board, Nelson's air pistol, a Bullworker, and other things that no longer exist now that I have two granddaughters. A house changes not only with the seasons but with the children who live in it. Angelique and Aubrey think that we have too many antiques. I pledged that the upper floor would be predominantly modern when I get down to refurbishing it.

Distant thunder. I pray that the rain will be gentle tonight.