Whither we goest . . . The Barnacle goes too . . .
At night, before we go to bed, Daughter of Conehead snuggles into the leopard blanket of warmth.
In the mornings as we wake up and breakfast and caffeinate and fishate.
We prepare the Vibrant Living Room for it's function on weeknights: the place where Katmama shucks (most of) her duds, partakes of grainery and greenery, and shuffles off the No, replacing it with Yes, and Yes, and YES.
(Kelly! Where are you?!? Luscious vibes of Yes, groovalicious Speahead calls us forth! Dance, mama, dance!)