Henry and Emma back in the loft proper.  10:48… what the…?  Time is starting to piss me off.

Wrote a note to Uncle Stevie… in this new year, more humor.  Making fun of, well, all of it. It’s there to be a joke, or at least a code of comedic consideration.

No more coffee I decided.  Not sure why that one cup was so assertive, but I’m like a lightning strike before the flash at this nook table.

Time set for departure… going into note mode.  Logging off for a bit.. study kids, and self.  Try and fit in a shower if I can which is essentially frivolity in the loudest pound.

I’m in my Beat read this morning, self-adorned in new shores, moving blue oars.