I'm almost through my 33rd Valentine's Day, (though for the first 2 or 3 I wasn't aware of much more than how nice my toes tasted and how much I hated pacifiers, let alone a diapered arrow-slinger, so maybe they don't count).
Thoughts from my little corner of the world.
random thoughts from Lise's head
Letters to the void...
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The Quiet Life is an Art
I've never known any trouble that an hour's reading didn't assuage. Charles De Secondat (1689 - 1755)