Earlier today, I fought off some weepiness by going outside to read on the porch. (Would be weird to sit on the porch in broad daylight and cry.)
Sitting there with my big old Thoreau bio, I realized that wasn't a bad tribute to my dad, who would take his books out to the deck to read, often with Sugie or Snow with him. My girls stayed inside, but one of them wasn't happy about it.
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