![](\"\/auto_images\/hires\/img23281264175227.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nOh, the flapping Barlow hair — with Neffy-poo alongside.<\/p>\n
Jon and me.<\/p>\n The sky was so beautiful that day. The beach is always different, you know, what with the constant changing of the sky and sand. <\/p>\n One of the following days, we went down there with some cousins who had come to visit. The weather that day was glorious but cold. <\/p>\n Cold, what cold? This boy takes the world at a run. He is passionate.<\/p>\n As is this boy. Know what he’s saying here? Answer: “Why am I so cold?” I attempted to answer him as I wound my scarf tighter around my neck. I don’t think he understood because soon after…..<\/p>\n he went back in. He’s the one shoulder deep. He wasn’t the only one, of course. However, the craziness was confined to our stretch of beach and (of course!) to boys between the ages of 5 and 13 who have our surname. You really know that your<\/b> people are crazy when a look for a mile in either direction confirms that of all of the people on the beach only your<\/b> people are in the water.<\/p>\n Beautiful beach, I miss you. Blue sky, I need you. Please come to St. Louis as soon as possible. Until then I’m going to look at this and think of you.<\/p>\n A Dose of Blue Sky is what I need today. What with the fog and the gray and the drizzle and the cold. It almost feels like there are demetors on the loose here — and then I remember that, … Continue reading <\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"