Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Watching the sun filtered through grey cloud out my upstairs window, should come up here more often, nice up here.

We're drinking our morning coffee, P's downstairs with his morning six pack, poor guy, long flight with a broken rib. Not Peretz, he's sleeping.

Happy birthday, T., march forth, trumpets & such.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

sometimes peretz has his morning six pack , you know
pup-a-lot, pup-a-lot!!! tururururu
march forth!!!