Thick fog shrouds the neighborhood this morning. The Bradford pear blossoms make the trees look ghost-like against the eerie background. It promises to be a grand spring day later. It is Friday. The end of another work week. Life is good my friends. The granddaughter is squawking and chatting away in phonemes* downstairs, happy as a any four month old can be. My coffee cup is nearly empty, and so is my tank of ideas for this post.
If I bothered to post any Friday music, it would have been Roger Miller's sing along classic "King of the Road".
* I did learn something in that psych class 34 years ago.
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