Lois Dawson paints the fence

On Sunday I was driving along east of Torch Lake in need of bucking up. Maybe Lois Dawson would like to go for a walk. When I got over there, Gary was washing windows and Lois was in the kitchen. Maybe this was not a good time. No, it was a fine time. Here, I should bury my nose in this bundle of sage. It would make me feel better. Wait a minute while the beans got started, and we'd go. (Lois and I would go. Gary would stay and tend the beans. He looked suspiciously contented when we left.)