It's awful hot. I let Ozma get a suntan, on a blue handkerchief I found at the laundry. I found a string of pink pearls for her.
On Sessy Street there's a man who looks like he's sleeping on top of the Bay Bridge with cars going under him. I wonder how he got up there?
The packers came at about 10:00. I was really scared for Morning Star and Lady and White Arrow, but Mom said she'd seen the guys pack them and they were okay.
There are 14 boxes with my stuff in them.
Thunder was nearly aphixiated by the heat when he came home this afternoon. He stowed away in the baggage compartment of a plane from Iceland to S.F., and when he flew out he collapsed right in the path of an oncoming plane. He would have been killed if it weren't for the peregrines. They were flying over on their way back from Idaho and saw him. Chief Peregrine and Ulysses swooped down and plucked him out of the way.
Lightning is munching hay in the empty doll case. He is muttering about a worthless meal of moldy trash.
No comments:
Post a Comment