The Lie of The Baby-Sitters Club

Growing up in East Texas, you don't get seasons the way other folks do. As a child I was outraged at The Baby-Sitters Club because they wore pants (pants!) in the middle of summer, which as we all know is impossible. Except now I live in the Ozarks where there are actual seasons. No longer do I endure the seasons of hot, hotter, hot, and not-so-hot. Instead I luxuriate in the seasons I was taught actually existed: Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter. I love where I live, especially in the fall, and I love my town square. It's perfect for observing and sketching the seasons. Here's what I saw and sketched today:


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