And we came to rest here on this porch rail for a little while we see
if she is coming back with some more cracked corn.
Today my brother, Dave, called and reminded me that I said I would come to Salt Lake in January. (It seemed so far-distant at the time .) We are still dealing, ten years later, with our mother's archives. Not that these are not INTERESTING archives; they are. I looked at all the rest of the slides with a small lighted viewer the last time I was there and threw away about 80 percent of them. I brought a backpack of the rest back to Idaho on the plane. Now he tells me that he still has the rejects--loose in a box. He'd like me to look at them again. I doubt it. Meanwhile he is hatching the recently digitized 8mm movies, which he thinks we should cut, before we make the DVD. Soon all the people who might watch it will be dead. . . He is probably right, but I trust only myself to so that. More to come--a gripping saga.