I guess a part of me wishes every day could be like this.
*Rodica and I said we both love taking baths, especially at bedtime, and she showed me the bath salts. They smell so good, but no jars to buy. Future precious commodity.
An ongoing quest for the meaning of life. Does true happiness exist in a Tory Burch turquoise-trimmed sheath, a MarieBelle Dark Chocolate Croquette bar, a rose garden, a rocky Maine beach, a daughter's eyes, an inky star-sprinkled sky, hours of computer keystrokes that tell a story--or all of the above?
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