In turns I wring myself, if necessary. (140 w, It's spring)
It is a beautiful day, little wind, which is quite unique in Zealand.
Every morning I wake up under This is the first time
in the world to make it ready for the summer and while my son and his girlfriend are sniffing the spring air outside, I have fun inside with looking at the most beautiful pictures.
They give me poetry creeps, which I can't resist. In no time I have another photo (count) tied to whose work I paste my words. The rondelle poem, often still favorite.
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