There’s a mirror with a clay frame in my kitchen that shows a village - a white fence connects one cottage to another. It reminds me of when my friends & cousins used to sit on a white fence counting the few cars that passed.
We told stories filled with ghosts and monsters, and shared our hopes and dreams. Sometimes we just sat there, lost in the world of our imagination.
Below, I’ll share a few thoughts and observations, or tell stories that may have a thread of truth in them, or not!
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Welcome to my fence
Thanks for stopping by to read some white fence talk.
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