Outside. Sitting on the sheltered patio. It is enough to be here, listening to wind chimes; the breezy wind far and wide, filling the whole valley. The big dry sycamore leaves going airborne, this one, those few, jumping up and skittering here and there. Oo-tapo is with me checking out the dead catnip patch, the sun warming his glossy black fur. Me
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You are in a whole other place now in your life than when you lived there before. Things will be so different . . .
Anything happening on the mosaic table? I meant to ask you about it today.
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