An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

And to think, there’s SO much I don’t write about

While preparing Leta for bed the other night Jon reached into my closet which is in her room (did you know that families circa 1926 only needed two closets? PER HOUSE?) and he pulled out one of my old nursing bras. “Wow,” he stammered. “Remember…

March 31, 2005