Hard-hitting reporter Sean G. Overland once again coming to you with the latest on Dad. Tomorrow I head back to the utopian vision that is Los Angeles, but before I leave, I wanted to offer something of a correction. I have been gently reprimanded by the family for the rosy tone of my previous report. “The People deserve to know the hard truth about Dad’s condition,” said an anonymous, highly-placed source within the family, “no matter how upsetting.” Now, personally, I suspect an ulterior motive: if our friends think Dad’s doing better, they might stop bringing pie. Over the weekend we enjoyed the most spectacular peach and huckleberry pies. So with apple season right around the corner, let me assure you that Dad is still a very sick man. And the only know cure is more pie. And maybe cookies.
Also, it is a great comfort to Maryann, Tim and me to know that Mom and Dad have so much love and support here in the Valley. It is very, very much appreciated!
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3 comments:
Recently purchased gravenstein apples are sitting on Davis family kitchen counter waiting for just such a command. Our live-in kitchen maid (a mediocre housekeeper but pretty good pie maker) will begin to peel, core, slice, add sugar and put into pie shells in the very near future. We think of Eric and all the family daily.
Kathleen
Hello Eric:
something to read while eating your pie:
The Brain-is wider then the sky
For put them side by side
The one the other will contain
With ease-and You-beside
The brain is deeper than the sea
For hold them Blue to Blue
The one the other will absorb
As songes-buckets do
The brain is just the weight of God
For-Heft them-Pound for Pound
And they will differ-if they do-
As syllable from Sound
Emily Dickinson
We miss you everyday
With Love, Ms Day
oops its sponges not songes
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