To my Nana explaining that my grits and getting cold and to my Dad talking to Tony “because he’s just being a boy” as most small dogs are.
I think about how insane politics has become and lament knowing what I know about life and such.
I read blogs of friends, that I call “friends” because I read their blogs and they read mine (I think) and some make me laugh and one makes me almost cry because I never gave a eulogy I had intended on giving.
I shower in the “beach shower” and laugh about how I’d squirm from the burn that usually accompanied being in this spot a decade or so ago.
I don’t squirm much anymore, nor do I get sun burned.
I think a lot about NYC and how one day I’ll go there and stay a while.
I think a lot about the mountains and how one day I’ll go there and stay a while.
My family smokes cigars and comment on the leaf, roll, and how weather in the DR effects them all.
I’m scolded for my hair length 3 times with varying success of guilt being laid upon my broad shoulders.
The grits are amazing.
Tony licks 3 plates. Three.
Were in the town car listening to some Verdi, a compilation I purchased for her.
My brother is teaching a Sunday school I suppose.
Nana is livid the bridge is up for some “dingy”.
Some things change but mostly they stay the same.
Three plates!
