One year, eight months, 16 days
I've been a widow now for one year, eight months, and sixteen days. Twenty months and two weeks, if you call it by the way...
Vacation.
Where I’m up for pretty much anything, as long as “anything” doesn’t involve me eating foods I’m allergic to.
(I’m also going to try to pre-write a couple of blog posts, so maybe this blog will actually see more words from me when I’m nowhere near it…. maybe! Depends on how the next 45 minutes goes.)