I have been abysmally sluggish, hiding out in White Haven and watching “Murder, She Wrote” on sleep timer in between Scrabble matches against my siblings. No more. Today I return to the urban jungle from whence I came, and it’s all photographs and art theory and lengthy papers until I can emerge from this cave of academia to eat Christmas cookies once more.
Here are some photos, forwarded to me by my own Cioci Tina, to celebrate my preferred state, and to mourn its temporary passing.
Time for coffee. Whoo.