Okay, Leeds, I lied.
Beautiful day, Chopin's "Romantic Guitar" (who knew?) on the laptop stereo, and I'm waiting to go to breakfast/brunch as Mother Superior's denouement with child fretting over not getting an I-Pod has extended beyond the long & short of it. A curious counter given this Mother's patience-of-Job with the three beasts that bound and gambol about the house with reckless abandon. Meanwhile, I could use a vacuum cleaner.
And yet, had I my druthers, the Pioneer Valley would replace Beantown as the preferred locale, fondest memories of being younger and at University, marked by the splendor of the spring and all.
Dare no one call this Heresy!
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