Seven for much of the hour; with eight for awhile and two beloved latecomers shortly before the bells.
A treat arrived - fresh garden cucumber in crisply chilled slices. The bounty of summer - maybe one of the wages of peace - the privilege of a home garden, good soil, none of the lingering detritus of years of military "action" to imperil the innocent wielder of spade & hoe. How would it be to have cluster bombs and depleted uranium dust to complicate the pleasure of sowing seeds to feed family & friends?
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