The alarm clock has no respect for the dreams we fall into. The morning fog off Chautauqua Lake hung in the air and was like a call of reveille for the troops to battle the new day on Kennesaw Mountain. I have camped there in the Boy Scouts. We hiked to the top of the mountain and looked out over the entire region, and we could see Atlanta from there.
My bed was soft and warm this morning. Bess was curled up at my feet, while Harry was stretched out on the bed. He had his head on the pillow. I’m now in one of the upstairs bedrooms, which was a guest room when I lived here. I don’t remember anyone ever staying at our house, but I’m sure someone must have. It’s more comfortable than the couch. I have permanently moved to this room. Although, one night I threw down six blankets on the floor
