I can always tell what time of year it is by the number of dead flies I find lining the window sills and beneath the night lights in the kids’ rooms. I just leave the hose on my vacuum because it’s a daily occurrence – me picking up flies in an effort not to have them squashed up and down the wooden staircase. I guess it’s getting colder outside because they’re all trying to get in to warm up.

* STOP! Look before you eat that soup. A fly may have fallen in it. (They do seem to fall from mid-air.) *

My great-grandmother had a good idea. Grandpa tells us the story this week:

Maybe I should tell my son I’ll pay him a penny for each fly he picks up! See, maybe things aren’t so different than they were back then.

Until we walk again …