Summer will soon come to a close, and yet as the idiom
wisely says, “it’s not over until it’s over.” Today temperatures scrambled up
and up, finally reaching the 90-degree mark on our thermometer. It was a great day for the local grandkids to
enjoy a “final hurrah” at the lake before school starts next week.
After swimming, kayaking, diving for rocks with goggles, and
otherwise waterlogging themselves, two sisters played in the sandbox during
dinner preparations. When I checked on
them, I was surprised to learn court was in session.
“These are the judges,” they said of the vehicles (and one
boat), all in a row, each one on an elevated hill. “The shovels and rakes are
the people lined up across from them.”
I have no idea where they learned about the judicial system,
and wonder what interrogations and verdicts might have been bouncing around inside
their pretty blonde heads. But I really had to wonder when a large truck
rolled through the floor of the courthouse: the top-dog judge that meant
business, the fella who sets things straight once and for all.
No comments:
Post a Comment