Author Archives: Kami

When Life Gives You Oranges

Oranges!!!

Oranges!!!

Who hasn’t heard the “When Life gives you Lemons make Lemonade” speech? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Okay, yes we’ve all heard it.

You make lemonade.

How about oranges? What if life hands you oranges? Then what do  you do?

Let’s line up the two side by side and see what we get, shall we?

We should.

Have you ever actually made lemonade? From a bowl of lemons sitting sweetly on your counter? Or from the tree in your backyard? That’s an important distinction.

Those pretty orange globes hanging on the tree make for a cheerful sight.

Those pretty orange globes hanging on the tree make for a cheerful sight.

Citrus trees have fierce hidden thorns and grow thick and tangly. So picking the dang things is like having life hand you lemons. Scratches on your arms, neck and face can definitely happen. I suggest you wear long, heavy-duty sleeves to pick lemons or oranges.

That bucket, box or bin you pick from that “small” tree fills up fast and gets heavy even faster. Hope you brought your muscles along, or at least some helpers. Our “little” orange tree we picked from yesterday filled up a large laundry hamper, a small laundry hamper and two five gallon buckets. It sure didn’t look like that much hanging on the tree.

Between rain and dust and birds the rinds of those fruits need some washing up. We had a two-year old on that job. She found it funner than bathtime. “I get to play in the sink with these hundreds of orange balls and this cool scrubby brush thing?” Oh yeah, she had a great time.

MSH invested in a juicing attachment that fits on my big mixer. That sure speeds up the process of getting the juice from the little round orange balls. Cut in half, press and the squeezing practically does itself. Sort of.  MSH has slightly sore muscles on his arms today.  A strategically placed bowl fills almost magically with copious amounts of juice. Personally I like to strain off most of the pulp and all the seeds. That’s a bit of a process too. MSH loves chunks in his juice. Me, not so much.

Here’s where things kind of split out between oranges and lemons.

Mmmmm. Makes you want to pour yourself a glass. Try squeezing a glass, it's better.

Mmmmm. Makes you want to pour yourself a glass. Try squeezing a glass, it’s better.

To get a useful amount of juice from either lemons or oranges requires more fruit than you’d expect. An eight ounce glass of orange juice takes roughly five or six medium oranges. Granted, ours aren’t specifically juicing oranges, but still, that’s a bunch of oranges for one glass to drink.

After yesterday’s long process, I can tell you I’m not going to chug a freshly squeezed glass of juice like I do a store-bought carton of the stuff. Personal time and effort give that juice a rarified, vintage wine expensive kind of flavor.

Juicer than oranges, lemons might yield eight ounces from four lemons. But you certainly aren’t going to drink that much lemon juice.  Oh no. That’d pucker you up for a week or more, right there. For lemon juice drinkability you’re going to want to add about an equal amount of sugar, maybe a little less, to two quarts of water and ice then stir well. Eight people can enjoy that sweetened lemon juice.

That’s a bunch of sugar right there. About a tablespoon and a half of sugar per eight ounce glass of water and lemon. That whole adage about life/lemons means you gotta add a ton of sweet to the sour stuff life hands you. Is it even possible to balance life that way? Some sour events life dishes out would require a sugaring of, oh I don’t know, a super sweet six month cruise to the Bahamas every half a year to achieve any kind of juice, water, sweetener balance.

Oranges, however, juice out ready to drink. No sugar required. A bit of ice is nice, but not necessary. It does take a hefty bunch of oranges and work to get that glass full enough to drink. Is the work worth it? When’s the last time you had a glass of orange juice, freshly squeezed? It’s a different experience than a processed glass.

Given the choice, we’d all pick oranges over lemons in the grocery store of life, wouldn’t we. Or would we? Some of us like a bit of tang and pucker. Some of us just need the easier route.

Either way, we make the best of what we’re given. And that, my friend, is the sweet and low of it.

Categories: Food, Gardening, Happiness | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

What? It’s Wednesday? Dang it!

What a slacker!

I can’t believe I didn’t post a Gratituesday yesterday. I can’t even come up with a decent reason. Busy. Life. Sidetracked.

Ungrateful?

Never.

Well, maybe on occasion I get grumpy and forget how decadent a life I lead compared to ninety percent of the rest of the world. Shame on me when I do that.

I recognize abundance every day but don’t necessarily mention it online. My journal hears about it. The interior of my car hears my comments and catches glimpses of car dancing and singing I might do when I’m feeling particularly blessed while I’m out and about.

There’s something about putting my gratitude out there for all the world to see that makes it bigger, better, and more real. Almost gives it life, if that’s possible. And so I’ve clung to the idea of Gratituesday since my sister posted one three years ago on Facebook. Tuesday has been like my extra little Hallelujah day.

Six-month old's first selfie.

Six-month old’s first selfie.

So, this Wednesday, a day late, but better than ignoring it altogether, I’ve built a list from this past week.

  • seeing a six-month old becoming mobile, rolling, stretching, reaching, becoming less dependent every day
  • joy clearly visible in the eyes of a physically challenged older adult when music plays and people sing
  • tiny purple wildflowers mixed in among the orange and golds
  • a chorus of birdsong to wake me every single morning
  • the dogs down the street who howl with the fire engine sirens, as if they know some sorrow has occurred
  • an orange eaten fresh from the backyard tree, juice running down my chin, fingers sticky with delight
  • a reliable, decent looking vehicle, new to me since December
  • opportunities to help in a different way than I’m used to or comfortable with
  • warm, clean water pouring out from the faucet at the mere twist of a handle
  • time with my children talking, laughing, texting, sharing
  • a zillion book choices for reading, mental traveling, learning, wondering
  • a red valentine balloon, droopy and deflated, but filled with love of the purest kind
  • a refrigerator full of food, cupboards stocked, every need supplied
  • friends and hugs, support and encouragement
  • wonderful memories to fill empty spaces

And that isn’t even half of the amazement that rocked my world.

I found another rock gift! Cool, isn't it?

I found another rock gift! Cool, isn’t it?

Oh, I know to anyone looking in on my life it would seem ordinary and boring. Maybe it is. But noticing and acknowledging the blessedness of it all makes it extraordinary in my eyes. And that’s all that really counts, isn’t it?

As is my wish every Tuesday, I hope you find happinesses in your life as well.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Happiness | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Can Anyone Really Tell Me What Love Is?

I confess.

I started writing a post about love. It’s a blatant attempt at getting a few extra views on Friday since I suppose people will Google “Valentines” a few gazillion times in the next twenty-four hours. Maybe someone would read my brilliant treatise on love and also fall in love with my blog.

Then I did a little “research,” looked up a few thoughts about love, compiled a list of ideas and threw it all out the window.

And yet, here I sit, still writing about love.

Why?

Because I’m pretty certain I don’t know much about it. Its definition sweeps the width of the wide world. Poets, writers, politicians, philanthropists, philosophers, pundits and millions of others have written so much about Love. It just seems confusing.

Are we talking strictly romantic love, familial love, friendship, agape, charity, brotherly love, religious love, eros, puppy love, enduring love, pathos, twenty-five years and going strong love, sexual attraction,  fifty miraculous years and still in love love, motherbear love, passion, infatuation, eros, affection, warmth, worship, intimacy, attachment, endearment, tenderness, sympathy, empathy, caring, adoration, idolizing, besotted, moonstruck, bewitched, entranced, amore, smitten?

I’m sure I’ve missed a few.

Even brilliant famous people don’t agree about love. I mean, look at these quotes:

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” ~ Shakespeare

“Love is a friendship set to music.” ~ Joseph Campbell

“Love is all we have, the only way that each can help the other.” ~Euripides

“Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.” ~ Oscar Wilde/

“I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

“Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do…but how much love we put in that action.” ~ Mother Teresa

See what I mean? The definitions fly all over the map of meaning.

All I know of love from my few years fits inside this sentence:

 

“Whatever love you give comes back to you in some altered but wonderful way, eventually.” ~ Kami Tilby

 

May not be profound but that’s my take on it.

Happy Valentines Day!

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Categories: Uncategorized | 6 Comments

Rural Suburban Surprise

It’s Gratituesday! Today I’m grateful to walk less than a mile from my home and find a bit of country life.

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These guys look like mischief just waiting to happen, don’t they?

I’m not kidding. There are little “county islands” that haven’t been incorporated into our town that still boast acre lots, with quite the variety of farm animals. Some Clydesdales hang out for part of the year across the sidewalk from the Riparian Preserve. A small flock of emus and a steer or three wander a two acre corner lot. Of course that one also backs up to a major intersection of power lines where you can hear the buzz of electricity overhead. Still, the cattle moo with all the gusto of country cows, and the roosters still encourage the sun to hurry up and get on with things.

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I couldn’t even begin to tell you what breed of rooster this guy is.

On a recent walk we spent a few minutes watching a determined rooster dig for grubs. Oddly mesmerizing and fascinating if you’ve never seen it before. A few goats also joined in the entourage thinking maybe we’d brought them something to eat. Sadly we hadn’t. And a tiny Shetland pony nuzzled up to the fence looking for a bit of love and a nibble.

I felt transported for those few brief moments, leaning against the bars of the fence. Soaking in the pastoral wonders led me to wishing I had an acre lot of my own.

You’d never suspect it driving the streets of our little town now, but when we first moved here seventeen years ago, I often spotted a fox or coyote loping across a field as I drove my two oldest to high school. Seeing huge jackrabbits almost two feet tall wasn’t unusual. Smelling a dairy farm came with the territory of living here.

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What a sweetie!

Now those things are rarities. The building boom ten years ago tripled the size of our town and pushed most of the rural life further into the desert.

Happily, several weeks ago we did see a coyote run through the park across the street. I imagine he’s found an easy to reach hen-house nearby and has made a few raids. Poor lost little guy. It’s not that difficult for most wildlife to follow the canal roads from the mountains down into the valley where the pickings seem abundant and unaware. I hope they don’t get caught.

I’m a lucky woman to find such variety in close proximity to my home. I like to think there’s still a bit of wild in the wild west where I live. Thankfully, I’m finding evidence of that every time I venture out.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday, Outdoors, phoenix | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

Ignore It and It Will Show Up at your Bedside?

Oh, to sleep like a two-year old, almost twelve hours straight uninterrupted.

Oh, to sleep like a two-year old, almost twelve hours straight uninterrupted.

For the past five or six weeks I’ve run across a major roadblock to sanity.

Sleep runs the other direction when I put my head on the pillow. Dreams hide as the covers wrap me in warmth. Rest disappears and restlessness settles in like an unwelcome guest.

Legs twitch, itchy spots scream for attention, the mind performs acrobatics. Even my eyes get in on the action, closed or not, parades of colors dance and swim in loud splashes and vibrant displays.

The sheets warm past bearing, the air chills. The pillow alternates between rock and hard place.

And if by some freak of nature my body begins to relax into that mysterious land called sleep a siren screams through on a distant street, volume turned up extra loud. Or a dog barks. Or some sound or another disrupts that blessed descent to almost unconsciousness.

And if all is silent, then surely a thought intrudes bumbling and jostling its way down the crowded seating in my brain, stepping on every toe.

Every thing that normally invites sleep no longer has any power to invite, elicit, encourage or entice somnolence. A droning audio book, lullabies on Pandora, white noise, humidifier, deep breathing, relaxation techniques, limiting caffeine, eliminating caffeine, reading, lights on, lights off, a light in the hall, no light in the hall, a warm bath, warm milk, a heating pad, a cool pack, lavender, chamomile, a massage, a different bed, a different pillow, a different room, the couch, a chair, the floor, prescription sleep meds, Benadryl, nighttime cold meds, multiple pillows, no pillows, singing, humming, counting, imagining a peaceful scene, conjuring floating on a cloud, no screen time an hour before, rituals, prayer, snuggling, no snuggling, sitting up, a protein snack, no snack, a drink of water, aroma therapy.

NOTHING. WORKS.

I can watch a movie and drop off into an irresistible snooze, then sleepwalk into the bedroom and voilà, I am awake unable to sleep again. I can read a book, barely able to keep my eyes focused on the words, nodding off into incoherence, then closing the book acts like an on switch for wakefulness.

What am I thinking about? What am I worried about? What’s on my mind? What am I anxious about? Why am I wacko?

Everything. Nothing. Anything.

It hardly matters.

Sometimes, around six or seven in the morning, some trigger clicks and I’m out. However long I sleep it’s never long enough and when I do wake from that kind of daytime sleep I drag my head and body through the rest of what’s left of a day like a soaking wet blanket, useless and heavy.

The only thing that matters is the need for sleep and how impossible it is to achieve.

It’s not like this every night. Only sometimes. Every other night, every third night, sometimes. I wonder if I might simply spend the rest of my life exhausted, worn out, sleep deprived.

I can’t think that way, though. I have to believe that the word temporary applies here. Temporary sleep deprivation. Temporary exhaustion. Temporary insomnia. Temporary rest disabled. Temporary partial insanity.

What did Shakespeare say? Oh yeah, “to sleep, to sleep, perchance to Dream.” Unfortunately that lovely line resides among a soliloquy debating the merits of dying. It’s part of that whole “to be or not to be” speech. Yeah, that one. (Most of Shakespeare’s ramblings about sleep are really about dying, so maybe I’ll look elsewhere for a better quote or two about sleep.

How about this one?

“I’ve always envied people who sleep easily. Their brains must be cleaner, the floorboards of the skull well swept, all the little monsters closed up in a steamer trunk at the foot of the bed.” ~ David Benioff, City of Thieves

Or, this one is brilliant in an obvious and obnoxious way.

“The best cure for insomnia is to get a lot of sleep.” ~ W.C. Fields

I like how this author turns things in a positive light.

“You are not an insomniac! (you’re just a nighttime philosopher)” ~ Leslie Dean Brown

Probably, I should incorporate this one in my nightly prayers.

“Lord, grant us rest tonight, and if we must be wakeful, cheerful.” ~ Robert Bolt, A Man for All Seasons

Some day, or rather, some night, this insomnia will go away. I’m counting on it. In fact, I’m thinking tonight I’ll actually sleep. I’m overdue for some.

It could happen!

Categories: Mental Health, physical health | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Rocking Things Up Around Here

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“The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind.” This one let me know that sitting quietly for long period of time was perfectly okay.

“What are men to rocks and mountains?”~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

(If you’re new to my blog, or don’t follow regularly, this all makes more sense if you know that my best friend passed away at the beginning of January.)

A multilayered message.

A multilayered message.

Have you ever felt like you stumbled on to a treasure hunt? I have, just recently in fact. I’ve been finding these gems around my yard this past month.

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Whoever did this for me is amazing!

And by gems I mean rocks.

Not just any rocks though.

These rocks ROCK!

These rocks speak to me.

Okay, I admit, that wasn’t very descriptive. So I’ve included photos.

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Beautiful, yes?

Someone, with an artistic flair and a bunch of love, painted words on rocks and tucked them in little hidden spots around my yard and garden. I’ve found one in every flower bed, another under the bird bath, another on my porch swing and yet another tucked in a ceramic pot filled with flowers.

Each one appeared on a day that I needed that message or idea.

Each seemed infused with care and compassion.

I’d call that magical, or serendipitous, or simply really nifty.

I’m not sure if I’ve stumbled on them all yet, either. So I find myself noticing things more as I pull some weeds, tuck in some seeds, water plants, or clear some frost damaged leaves. Whether I find more or not doesn’t matter, for what I find as I pay better attention to yard tasks is a kind of mindfulness that I need right now.

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Psalm 46:10

Rushing through tasks isn’t in my nature lately.

I’m trying to give all I can to the moment I’m in. Less multitasking and more one thing at a time. Enjoying now.

It’s a new idea for me.

From words that directly let me know something, to words with layers of meaning. From the simple to the profound. Anyway you read them they speak of love.

The combined rock messages have helped me see things in a new light and reminded me of things I needed reminding of.

So, THANK YOU, rock painting person. Your kindness is noted, appreciated, cherished and smiled at often. YOU ROCK!!

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You’ve succeeded in making me feel loved! Thank you!

Categories: Gardening, good ideas, Gratitude, Love | Tags: , , , , | 7 Comments

Nine Happinesses To Share

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Fabric hearts sewn together in a garland for my front door. Ta da! An actual finished project!

It’s Gratituesday! Today’s thankfulness is brought to you courtesy of a quick list of things I’m thankful for.

  1. I belong to a book club that makes me think about things I don’t always consider. I should also mention I feel lucky that they’re so easy-going about my critical, not always glowing words when we discuss things.
  2. Cold weather and I don’t get along well. I’m blessed to live where the winter is mild and reasonable.
  3. I’ve had lots of time in the past two weeks of influenza fog to do some big time reading. So I guess there’s a plus side to being sick.
  4. I finished a craft project I started a year ago. Nothing fancy or complicated. But I finished it. I’m not normally a finisher, so I feel pretty dang successful and proud of that little project.
  5. I missed January’s vegetable planting window, but I still have a February garden waiting to start.
  6. My wildflowers out front bust out more every day, making a green, yellow and orange carpet of my rocky front yard. Add in the brimming flower pots at the front door and I feel welcomed home with open arms.
  7. A good sized “to-read” stack of books beckons me with undiscovered adventure, wisdom and laughter.
  8. A vacancy opened up recently on my writing desk, just roomy enough for my little family of journals, notebooks and a laptop computer.
  9. I think there’s music fluttering about that I’m not hearing, so I’m turning up the volume on my potential-good-stuff-in-my-life-meter. I’ll fine tune a few things and hopefully, soon, I’ll catch a melody breezing about and let it in.

I’m sure there’s more, but midnight’s closing in fast and GratiWednesday just sounds dorky.  I wanted to make sure I acknowledged the happiness in my life today, and every Tuesday.

Feeling blessed.

And sleepy.

Categories: Gratitude, Gratituesday | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Poetry of Gray Infused

photo 2-2 copy 2Some days lean toward solitude and slowness. Quiet settles in like dust in every crack and crevice.

photo 4 copy 4Color appears as the exception, with gray predominating. Even the green leaves shows variations of gray.

photo 2-1 copy 8Gray in all its hues and tones permeates the sky, the mood, my heart. Even the hopeful nest of a bird feels emptied out and uninviting.

And yet.

photo 3-2 copy 2Color insinuates itself into a scene, here and there. Flamboyant, amid the pale winter green of leaf and stem.

photo 1-1 copy 2Out of sleeping branches,  unexpected bursts of life demand notice and appreciation.

photo 1 copy 8Against my need to wallow, the gray begins to dissipate around each slow corner I turn.

photo-20 copy 18And at its close, the day again asserts its hold on me with waves of color singing me to sleep.

Categories: Nature, Outdoors, Poetry | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

What I Miss About You

photo by Richard Croft [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

photo by Richard Croft

Dear Kathy,

So apparently there’s no texting allowed in heaven or I’d have heard from you by now. Dang it.

I figured maybe, just maybe, you’d get a split second or two to do some reading, since you love to read. So I thought if I wrote out some thoughts I’d had lately, you’d get the message somehow. Call me naïve, or silly or weird, I don’t care.

Also, you’ve been on my mind more than ever, imagine that. I find myself thinking of things I need to tell you about, and then remember you aren’t close by to just drop in and have a chat with. So I’ve been kind of keeping a mental list of things to talk with you about. Maybe you won’t mind if I drop you a letter once in a while to sort of make sure I’m staying connected with you somehow.

For my first letter to you I’ve come up with a list.

It’s a list of just some of the things I’ve missed about you since you left almost a month ago:

  • How insistent you are about being on time, and others being on time, too. Like a contract, you always say.
  • Seeing your face light up when you think about, talk about or get a text or a call from your husband.
  • How you always say, “love you” when I leave, and how I know you mean it.
  • Hearing about your wild and crazy daycare adventures.
  • Being completely comfortable in my skin with I’m with you. No need to weigh my words, or be careful about what I say or do.
  • Finding you sitting in “your spot” on the third floor at the Mayo, when I wander up from parking the van. That smile I get when you see me finally come around the corner.
  • How you don’t like it when we end up wearing the same color shirt to go somewhere together.
  • Getting a text from you asking “what ya doing?” and knowing it means I get to spend time with you.
  • Talking about books and movies and kids and husbands and life and death and religion and politics.
  • How you watch the clock for Sonic Happy Hour to roll around.
  • Eating pita bread and hummus while we talk nonstop, then being too full to eat our Fatoosh salad or Kabob.
  • Picking up a conversation with no glitches or strangeness after two or three or even four weeks of not seeing each other.
  • How you aren’t afraid or hesitant to ask for what you need or for what you want.
  • Finally being over a cough or cold so I cold come hang out again.
  • Having you help me make sense of the latest weird development in my strange life and how you say it makes your life seem normal by comparison.
  • Taking photos of your blooming bushes or my wildflowers to show you, or having you point out the cactus in bloom when we drive.
  • Feeling at home in THE CHAIR in your room and talking about nothing and everything.
  • Getting fries from McDonald’s and a Frosty from Wendy’s.
  • How vigilant you are when babysitting your daughter’s stuffed animals and dolls.
  • Saying it like you see it, no sugar added.
  • Just being together whenever and wherever.
  • Feeling like one of the cool “in” people when I’m with you.
  • Knowing I have someone who totally gets me without having to lay it out in detail.

So that’s all I can think of at the moment to tell you about. Except, I’m feeling pretty lucky to have you for a friend. You’re one of a kind, in case I forgot to tell you. Oh, and I love you and miss you like you can’t believe.

I’m guessing you’re busy being all angelic and stuff. I get that. So don’t worry about trying to get in touch.

Mostly I feel like you’re right here in my heart anyway. I can hear your voice in my head, telling me to crank the tunes, open the sunroof and enjoy my Diet Coke. I’m trying to do just that, cuz you’d want me to. But, it’s not just the same without you in the passenger seat.

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photo by Reinhard Dietrich

Try to stay out of trouble up there.

I miss you.

Your bestie,

Kami

Categories: Cancer, Death, Friendship, Relationships | Tags: , , , , , | 8 Comments

Who Reads the Instructions Anyway?

My sister cleaned out her office a couple of years ago and passed on a poster to me that I’d always admired. I rolled it up, took it home and set it aside for a while. Recently I found a frame and hung the poster in the guest bath.

Now I notice people are spending longer in that bathroom than usual.

It’s a poster filled with awesome ideas. Just reading it takes a few extra minutes than you’d expect. But then, it also makes you think, so you reread parts of it. That’s the sign of some great information in a good format.

I wish I’d thought of it, but I didn’t. Someone named H.Jackson Brown Jr. back in the 1990’s thought of it. I looked online and guess what? The same copy I have on my wall is online as well. Must be a classic.

If I counted correctly there’s sixty-two great thoughts on being a better person. Implementing even one of them would improve your life. It’s all relative. Maybe some suggestions are impossible or unreasonable or go against something you believe in, but mostly, it’s simply sound, logical ideas for having more happiness in your life.

The rest of today’s post consists of just that poster, nothing more.  No comments from me even.

And you don’t even have to visit my guest bath. Happy reading!

instructions

Copyright 1991 H. Jackson Brown, Jr. Published and distributed by Portal Publications Ltd., Corte Madera, California

Categories: good ideas, Joy, Relationships | Tags: , , , , | 3 Comments

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