Holy Smucksville, my darling Lydia has no head.
I was gone away from the home for just over four hours and came home to Lydia having no head. We have had great winds and a rain storm is anticipated to blow in. I trust it was the winds that have brought Lydia into the realm of no head. I did try to set her up again, the wind came in again, and knocked her bubble head off. I shall try again when the weather calms.
The second time around of the head knocking event, I said to Lydia - my word, girl - do you think Donald wants to pay you a visit?
When I look at the above photo, good lord, I see Donald - or some foreign object a float in the formation of the clouds. Ah, but alas, Lydia is somewhat protected by the little angel.
I trust, John Prine never anticipated the words to Donald and Lydia would be such an event as they have become in my life on the mountain side.
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