Nothing is perfect.

The longer you live, the more that you own.

You learn that...nothing is ever perfect.

Accepting this fact makes life so much more enjoyable.

Patrick and I had the most imperfect lunch yesterday.

But it was still lovely and delicious and fun.




Patrick's hamburger was delicious even tho they made the wrong one and had to remake it.




My Mediterranean Pasta was delicious even tho I bit an olive pit.




And this beautiful pie was not so good. But it was free. Because of the hamburger mistake.
Ree's chocolate pie is much better. This pie had the texture of....clay.




But we will go back. It wasn't horrible. Just imperfect.

And that's the way it goes.



On the way home I drove by an Indian Scout.
He is big like a Chief, but the single feather makes me think he is a Scout.






Do you see him?
Or is it just me?

He is always there for me. Always watching.



New homes surround this corn field.

But each year, the corn is planted and harvested on this plot of farm land.

I can't help but think that the Indian Scout has something to do with it.




Encourage one another,
Donna


P.s. Thank you for the delightful comments yesterday.
I am looking forward to doing another talkie blog soon!