




I went to my old (and used to be) neighbor's property to paint today and was greeted by their two young great-grandsons who were eager to have me paint up at the frog pond. I've seen the frog pond, so I graciously declined. They very politely insisted on helping me carry my gear to a place that was my choice. The one with my easel didn't last long with it and ended up with my board. We got to our destination, and I offered them paper and some pastels... They wanted to know when I was going to eat my lunch. I pretended not to be hungry. I didn't want to share my lunch and my pastels. They were as delightful as two young brothers on a hot summer day with a huge mud puddle and a young dog can be.
No comments:
Post a Comment