Drooling on the Pillow

Wednesday, July 07, 2004

July 4 

Everybody I know seems to have a cabin on a lake or river in the Poconos or someplace fifty miles or so outside of Sodom. We had the use of one of these for the long weekend, sharing it with one of Grace's chums and her mother.

I was broken and now am whole. Pretty much.

I don't know if I mentioned that Grace is from just about as far south as China goes. Very close to Vietnam. Very tropical, even in April, when we traveled there. She's been in camp for a couple weeks now, swimming at least twice a day and over the weekend she was in the water for five or six hours a day. I don't know if I'm committing a Lysenkovian fallacy here by linking this to her place of birth, but I'm here to tell you she has browned up to a turn. To a fare-thee-well.

Her mother and I are both more along the lines of Gaelic fishbelly white.

It's the kind of thing she notices, but, so far, is merely amused by.
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