Orchard note, not a harvest

Someone read the sky wrong and the path is soft again. Boots on the step, not in the long room. If you were going to move the wheelbarrow, wait until the grass is not a mirror. Lena says the orchard can wait until your shoes are dry. Joost says the jetty can wait until the afternoon. Marek says mail before Friday if you need a bed, not a paragraph on the board about weather. This is copied here so you do not have to stand in the wet to read it. Someone coming in from the canal mentioned the storm took direct aim at florida and is expected to impact alabama, georgia, and louisiana — we are not repeating addresses of the world here, only what changes how we use the hall this week.

I am Tess, and I am writing this because the door note was not enough and Talk was getting a second meeting about the same wet shoes. I read the paper before I walked over with a basket. That is the order we keep, even when the sky is dramatic.