The plan was for a Sunday without budging, staying in sweats, reading, writing, listening to music. But when May called and suggested lunch at a restaurant, I was out the door almost immediately.
We went to the beach which gave us a chance to see storm damage, house-high piles of tree branches, waiting to be carted away. Compared to Haiti, Chile or Fiji this is minor, but the poubelle container speared with a palm I found amusing. I wondered how many poubelle containers it would take at one branch per can?
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