On New Year's Eve, we cut down that gosh durn tree that had become a hazard. Remember the limb that speared into the attic.
That's John up there.
"Hang on tight baby!"
No no no, it's really not. We hired people to do this. By the way, cutting down trees is the cost of a vacation. Uncool. I like him too much--I need him around to show me chess moves and make the coffee.
We played our second chess game last night with Eric Clapton Radio, from Pandora, blaring. (George told me he wonders what we do on days he does not hear from us.) I am progressing--I actually had John in check at one point.
Are we little old people? Sometimes. We either hibernate or rage. Not much in between.
fuzzy iphone pic. i tend to bite john a good bit, just 'cause he's cute.
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