Yesterday, on my way back from Hulín, I stopped momentarily at the bridge over the creek. It's a former mill dam, but that's unimportant. I was interested to see how many bees were on the white flowers.

As at this point, there’s a whole war going on in my house because of grandma’s cloth. It’s actually funny how everyone didn’t want anything to do with grandma’s cloth some weeks back but now, my table