rags, we called those "monkey bars" when we were kids.
I remember one built by an uncle we visited in northern California when I was about 7 years old. He had carved or wood-burned the names of his grand kids into the wood of the monkey bars set up under a walnut tree. It was all very intriguing to me, as we didn't have walnut trees in Montana, and to have your very own monkey bars seemed like a fantastic luxury!

Ryan did get most of the storm windows down today, but the ladder is broken, so must find another one to finish.

The painting of the day is

Mountain Ash Berries


Alice