Category: Ephemera
It seems I am not alone
… In my avoidance of the World Series, that is.
Histrionics about rain. Brief ones.
So the dire winter is set upon us with long, unloving gouts of rain. It helps me cheer myself up to make romantic, sweeping statements in language that would make a teenager blush. It also passes the time.
A husband who does #yoga: what can be better?
No, I don’t know what pose that is either.