Good morning again, this morning is much like yesterday with a clear sky and sunlight. Leaves are strewn about the deck from the large silver maple in the backyard. I once made a painting with leaves, and here it is:
It's called Leaves at Summer's End and it was a work of art celebrating my first attempt at gardening, which was quite successful.
Last night we were flipping channels on TV and ran across a version of Journey to the Center of the Earth, starring Rick Schroder. We sat through the whole thing, and it was pretty dull, with little connection to the classic book by Jules Verne according to my husband. It really lacked any entertainment value at all. It had a cast of apparently talented actors, but the writing was pretty amateurish and there was never a sense of drama. At no point did I ever fear for the characters or empathize with them either. Dull as dishwater. You've been warned.