I've decided it's time to tell Vance Davis's story. To do that well, I'm re-reading all of the books with him in it. Well, I'm attempting to, anyway. Any time I try to sit down on my front porch to read, this happens:
I finally convinced this crew to leave me alone and then I got distracted by Snickers teaching her baby, Forest, how to pick a fight with our young buckling, Skittlez. (My oldest son insists on the "z" - he says it makes the name more manly. Or is it manlier?)
Even with all of this cuteness abounding, I'm determined to work on this book. I'll let you know how it goes!
Rolling hills that had been vibrant green just weeks ago were now muted in tone, as if they were taking a deep breath before bursting into the song of fall.