Eastern shore

I took a trip to Blackwater National Park. Prince Samuel did not want to get in the car so I let him stay at home. 

Driving there I grieved. I grieved for your losses, I grieved for mine, including anticipatory grief for Samuel because he's getting old and getting into my car is hard for him. 

There were large blue signs along the highway, each with a different word, written in white. Respect. Trust. Compassion. Civility. I thought it was sad that I saw these words and immediately thought the words were political. Then I saw a smaller sign under one of them that said, "will you shut up, man?" and laughed my head off. 

On the way back home I saw this derelict boat up on display, making it a count as a toy under the very broad definition I had to adopt when I ran out of toys. I stopped in Cambridge to check out the electric charger there and saw a beautiful painting of Black Lives Matter in the street, with historic characters painted in the outlines of the letters (too wide for me to be able to get a shot). I saw a terrific mural of Harriet Tubman. While my vehicle was charging the kids in the vehicle next to mine were a perfect commercial for the car's games. They looked almost as cute as Kendall's grandkids and they were in their dad's lap and in the middle area between the front seats, smiling, giggling, laughing, playing. Then on the way home the sky was stunning and every color change was as gorgeous as the one before.

Virtual hugs.