It’s Saturday. Cool air today is welcome.

The noise at the school (starting at 6:45) is not.

Woke to beeping trucks, that piercing tone made all the more annoying because studies have shown the sound doesn’t actually save lives.

Later, I watched in disbelief as they used a mini-bulldozer to lift and carry rubber mats that could easily have been carried by one of the two men waiting for its delivery under the swing set.

Blueberry scones in the oven. I will join the Saturday Newton Center protest later.

And so it goes.

Crunchy fallen maple leaves everywhere. Ferns turning to rust. September is around the corner.

My mother’s birthday is in two days so it seemed a fitting Sunday to pop up to Gloucester and visit her grave.

I couldn’t remember where the cemetery was or its name. Fortunately Ken has a good memory for places and travel routes and got us there no trouble.

We brought a picture of Danny and an old hand sculpture that once belonged to my sister. Weather will damage both of course.

The lichen was pretty but obscured her name. Ken cleared most away.

I wrote my mother a letter in the car on the way up. At the stone, I silently talked with her. She was helpful, as I would have expected.

And then it was time for our annual meal at Woodman’s. Finn was flummoxed that he didn’t get any table scraps but when whole belly clams cost close to $1 each, that’s a NO.

Our AC crapped out two days ago. Ken is down in the cellar right now replacing the fan’s motor. I sure hope it’s the fix required because this heat and humidity is fairly unbearable.

Just a collage today.