Nearest and dearests

I wish that I could say I took a picture of my breakfast. I wish that I could recall how many cups of coffee out of a retro white coffee mug I had. (Lost count at five!) I really wish that I had taken a few snaps of my dear friend J’s pixie sprite of a little girl.

Alas, I only have the memory of two perfect eggs over easy with a side of hash browns and bacon, and a morning of gossip, catching up, and laughs.

Thank God for hometowns!

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