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Christine and i are walking to raise money for migraine research next month. If you'd like to contribute, the form is at: https://www.raceroster.com/pledge/?e=571&u=18648
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"Saratoga girl's suicide fuels cyberbullying debate." Not the, "Why are they raping, molesting, and documenting the abuse of a girl who went upstairs to find privacy to sleep off too much alcohol?"
No need to answer.
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I went to bed quite early and slept in. Eleven hours of sleep? I have been productive, although it's not the list of things to do today. However the bookshelves i look at from my desk are now tidier. And i wrote a letter (on my photo of an embroidered 2012 card) to my grandfather's wife. Lunch was a delicious salad of orange, strawberry, pecans, egg, and mozzarella.
And so. Here i am.
My hands feel greasy as i coated our dining room table with olive oil, hoping to soothe the distressed wood before a table cloth returns. One corner shows a cloud of half-inch long scratches, like might be made by a cat leaping to the table and instinctively grabbing for a foothold through the table cloth.
... morning reflections were given up for sweet sleep....
--==∞==--
"Saratoga girl's suicide fuels cyberbullying debate." Not the, "Why are they raping, molesting, and documenting the abuse of a girl who went upstairs to find privacy to sleep off too much alcohol?"
No need to answer.
--==∞==--
I went to bed quite early and slept in. Eleven hours of sleep? I have been productive, although it's not the list of things to do today. However the bookshelves i look at from my desk are now tidier. And i wrote a letter (on my photo of an embroidered 2012 card) to my grandfather's wife. Lunch was a delicious salad of orange, strawberry, pecans, egg, and mozzarella.
And so. Here i am.
My hands feel greasy as i coated our dining room table with olive oil, hoping to soothe the distressed wood before a table cloth returns. One corner shows a cloud of half-inch long scratches, like might be made by a cat leaping to the table and instinctively grabbing for a foothold through the table cloth.
... morning reflections were given up for sweet sleep....
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