After I shared my concerns about Henry and the very real possibility of his aging (despite all my ancient forest concoctions brewed with the gossamer strands curried gently from the coats of newborn unicorns and brewed under a full moon), y’all were just so generous with your sweet and pragmatic suggestions.
Thanks to your comments and emails, I am now on the hunt for a pool where he might get a more regular swim activity and also a doggy acupuncturist . . and as if that weren’t enough, Henry was also the beneficiary of some complimentary long-distance reiki– so let us just take a moment to say, the boy, he is loved.
This morning was rather gray and it wasn’t clear to me if the heavens were going to drop another battery of rain on our heads as we plunged into the fields for a long meander, but the skies shifted and glimmers of sunlight appeared instead.
I came home all ready to tell you how fun it can be to snap photos amidst glinting grays, when I stopped to first have some coffee, read a bit more in Mr. H D T when wouldn’t you know? On August 31, 1852 he writes,