sit up straight. you'll never meet the buddha with such rounded shoulders.
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Atlantic Ocean, my friend! I love you under blue skies, and I love you when the fog horn is calling out over you, and my dog is alone on the beach chasing driftwood and digging holes in the sand.
Crispy new potatoes for dinner, The Queen of Versailles, coffee with the Dancer, the weekend, new red mailbox, melting snow, clean laundry, wanting everyone I love to be at least content, if not full of joy.