Rainy day today, and the forecast says rain most of the weekend. Although I probably should grade essays or something, I am considering doing a little work to update my Gully Brook Press website. I need to post a new virtual museum, and I already know the topic will be apples. I might make an apple pie for my father, who I know must be feeling blue. Uncle Joe died yesterday morning. He was 88, but looked and seemed much younger. It's good that he wasn't ill for very long. His picture, when he was a boy in 1919, is in my Immigrant Roots virtual museum. He lived in Florida all of my life, having moved there from New York in the 1950s. We visited every winter for a couple of weeks, and after us kids were grown, my father continued to make an annual trip to Miami, most recently last June. Uncle Joe loved dogs as much as I do, and always had at least a couple. He also had other animals when I was a kid, including a precocious Myna bird. In recent years he cared for his wife, who died from Alzheimer's disease in 1997. I am remembering a Florida trip years ago, a bright, orange-tinged memory, and Uncle Joe giving me several pads and pencils to use for drawing, as the year before I had spent many hours doodling during our visit.