What a Wednesday morning. Tell me, when does an oil change mean only an oil change? Never, that’s when. As I had to be at the garage for 7:30, I didn’t have time to write my FF. I didn’t think I’d be spending five hours there, so I didn’t bring my laptop. Oh well. Silver linings and all that. I got my steps in before noon. So there’s that, right? Thank you, always, to our leader, Rochelle for hosting and would you look at that? I know that pic!
Jason stepped back, admiring his handiwork, a satisfied grin on his visage. Anything could become art with a little imagination. Chores didn’t have to be dull and boring. He was convinced his parents would be pleased that he had stacked the wood. On the first asking, no less.
He heard the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway and quickly hid behind the tree to hear their first reaction. Both car doors slammed shut and then silence.
“Patti. Come and see what Jason did.”
“Well, now. It is stacked, as requested…”
“In the front. Around the window.”
“Artistic, no?”
“Hmmm”