This is what I woke up to yesterday morning:
That was the view off my back patio in Costa Rica where I went with Will, Nancy & Dameion this past weekend.
We walked back in our house about 8:30 this morning. I've been crying ever since although my liver is quite relieved.
Tomorrow morning I'm flying to Manhattan for the weekend with Linda. Cause I'm just jet-set like that. She's going to a writers conference, I'm just going to be going although originally I did intend to go to the writers conference. That was before I realized that writing about what's for dinner, or the current virus du jour, does not make one a writer that goes to writer's conferences. And even though it is not Costa Rica, it is New York.
Hopefully I'll keep myself busy while she's at poetry readings. I'll wander the city and see how many bars I can visit between lunch and dinner. Maybe we should take bets? No guesses under 12 will be considered.