Tonight, rather than work on our screenplays and music videos...
....we photocopied our faces.
....we summoned spirits with a Ouija board.
....we had a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest.
Q: When do you come home, Monica?
A: December 14th!
Q: That's only two weeks away! Are you excited to come back?
A: OH MY GOODNESS, yes.
Q: Are you getting lots done in Dublin?
A: Normally, yes. This morning was obscenely productive. Right now, not so much.
Q: Do you miss us?
A: Are you KIDDING?
1 comment:
Daddy mentioned that Venice is having bad floods, up to the door of the cathedral. And that YOU said, where will the poor pigeons walk? Driving home this morning I noticed the pigeons roosting on the telephone wires over the intersections, fanned by the breezes made by traffic in 28-degree temperatures. And I thought, why don't they go home to their cosy nests?
Pigeons are such citified birds, they hardly seem like birds!
(Remember that children's book about the friendship between the old Roman plasterer and the pigeon he rescued?)
Love you! Say hi to the Dublin pigeons for me!
Mama
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