This blog needs more Apricot (crappy phone picture).
Addendum: I totally forgot. Happy belated, Apricot! She turned four on the 13th. Send her presents!
Escape
Even though it is a fairly large city we live in, it can, at times, feel awfully confining. At which point, my friends and I are itching to skip town for the weekend and seek temporary solace from the banality of suburbia in newfangled settings. The question now remains: where to go?
“The cat is above all things, a dramatist.”
Happy birthday, Apricot. You are now a 32 year old woman.
A typical lazy, sunny Sunday: I listen to music whilst reading/cleaning/keyboarding/painting, as Apricot sits on my desk, staring longingly out the window.
