Under the stormy sky, the village of Rome Station. Known for its coffee house built of stone that doubles as a small bookstore. When we came through recently, I bought a book on Sacajawea's people. S bought coffee, natch. This scene was across the road, and very classic Americana, I thought.
I've been working all afternoon and evening on a big mess that I should have worked on sooner. I have it all boxed and about half sorted and the kitchen is finally reassembled. Nearly everything fit in, and S cleaned out some shelves in the garage for some of the rest. Big job, dragged out. In my usual manner. Good night.
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