Well, 2018 has arrived and promptly thrown up on my shoes.
The vile details I’ll spare you. (You’re welcome.)
At the moment –and to my utter chagrin– I’m feeling like an abused mole cowering in its dark, little hole begging the world, “Please, sir, no more.”
Hopefully this beady-eyed, varmint stage will pass swiftly and the rest of 2018 can unfold above ground.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe
