Flying Machine

I'm doing a project for Nanette, scanning all of her letters to her mother on my computer right now. I've finished 1964-1966, at 19 after graduating and moving to New York. I told her, after organizing and reading them, that it reminded me of my letters to my father when I was young. Both of us were both more open and honest than I think our parents sometimes wished we would be.
I stayed out at Nanette's Monday night with the boys and her three dogs and thirty cats. She has two outdoor heated condos for the cats.

There was a full moon that night, clear and crisp with a dry 0 degrees.