Monday, February 27, 2017

Drawing Lessons . . . and Returning Home . . .

Last week was very busy, and rewardingly so. I learned some new techniques in two intense days of drawing classes, but not only that -- the immersion was also inspiring, and I'm fairly confident it's created a momentum I'm going to continue.
I also managed a few good visits with old friends, attended a wonderful piano concert (the Rachmaninoff preludes, marvellous!), became a degree more comfortable with being a visitor to, rather than a resident of, the island I used to call home.
And I drove "down island" through some nasty weather for the lovely reward of lunch with my son and daughter-in-law (at The Empress--I love this venerable old hotel, where we stayed a couple of days on our honeymoon, so long ago) and then an overnight at their new home, with entertainment provided by a very lively Almost-Two.
So when I was waiting for the ferry Saturday morning, it was with some anticipation of getting back home and crashing into beautiful and bountiful solitude. . .
Not to be. The Weaning Project involving another Almost-Two had done some crashing of its own -- right smack dab into the reality of how controlling that Little Guy had found his howls to be in the early morning darkness of a small urban apartment, not at all soundproofed. . . .
So Granddad had rightly offered some respite, and I arrived to find more Almost-Two shenanigans in full swing. Nana and Granddad taught that Little Guy a few things about Sleeping--Through-The-Night and its serious importance to the well-being of the folks he loves, and it worked well enough that we volunteered a second night, just to underscore the point. Without any of the distracting attractions his Momma offers, he eventually succumbed to our reasoning, and we returned him to his family this morning with some patterns chipped at just enough to make a difference, we hope. . . At the very least, a few folks have had a bit more sleep than normal. Granddad and I might not be among them. . . .

So I'm just going to offer you a survey of what I drew in last week's classes, and eschew any commentary for now, if you don't mind.
But I'm very happy to field any questions you might have about anything you see or read here.  . .

And guess what? I looked up, just after I typed that ellipsis above (...), and I see white flakes falling on my terrace. I will grudgingly admit that this is not an unreasonable form of precipitation for February, but it's not what I was hoping for. Still, I suspect it's very temporary, and I will soon be complaining vehemently about the rain. ;-)

Friday, February 24, 2017

What I Wore, Outer-wear-wise, Inviting Spring. . . .

My two-day Drawing Course is over, and I have a few images to share with you soon. I stayed at my good friend's, a few houses away from my home of 20+ years, and it was great to catch up with her and good-but-a-bit-weird to be back on "our little island." I'd been worried it might be too difficult, that I'd be holding back tears throughout the visit, but instead I managed to get out for a few quick walks, bump into old friends and neighbours, exchange a few hugs. . . . I even walked out onto our old beach, looked up at the house that's not ours anymore, and when I turned my back to it and looked back out toward the horizon, I spotted an oystercatcher at the tide's edge (as seen earlier, in this post). . . Felt like a good sign. . . .

Still, a lot to process -- not least, the brainwork required to assess negative space, to approximate angles and set out rough geometric areas/shapes on a page, to play with contours, and to attempt continuous line drawing. And remember which pencils work best on which papers. It's play, yes, and it's also the best kind of work, but it is at least as exhausting as it is exhilarating.

And I'm still away from home, in a hotel last night, meeting a friend for breakfast before a road trip over a mountain pass to visit my son. A mountain pass which has been dusted with snow flurries overnight, although I expect by the time I reach it those flurries will have given way to showers. (Sounds much more dramatic than it is, honestly, but, you know, a blog needs a bit of drama occasionally, and sometimes I have to throw in a "mountain pass," without necessarily mentioning that I used to drive this twice a week, and many people include it in their daily commute ;-).)

Meanwhile, though, until I'm home and rested up, I do have the What I Wore photos I promised to illustrate the way that I'm trying to bring some colour to my February wardrobe. The temperature dropped again this week (see above, re snow flurries!), but overall it's been warming a bit (and raining, and raining). Not needing as warm an outer layer meant I could wear this trenchcoast -- still neutral, yes, but at least not so dark. . .

although the footwear is still winter-weight. . . . What would I do without my Blundstones, so perfect for our Vancouver rain. . .  You might also note that I tied a brighter scarf at my neck to enliven the neutrals a bit, although it's a bit tough to see the pattern (if you'd like a better view, you can see it in this post -- scroll down a bit -- or this one, or this one).
I also went the scarf route to lighten the slightly tough-practical combo of cuffed boyfriend jeans, black sneakers, and leather jacket. I love this silk-mohair shawl/scarf I knit ten or more years ago (here's the pattern page on Ravelry, if you'd like a better idea of the size and design).


And after I'd worked my way into small, judicious bits of colour. . . . Ah, why not?! I decided I should let this J. Crew peajacket out of the closet. I bought it impulsively a few years ago even though (or because) I already had one in navy. Honestly, I've found that I don't always want to live up to the colour, if that makes sense, but I have to say I got many compliments on this.
I could have toned down the impact, I suppose, by pairing with jeans or dark pants or even a slightly longer, solid-coloured skirt.
But I like this look, for a change,
and although the peacoat is warm enough for winter,
wearing this makes me feel as if spring might be on the way -- as the shorter skirt (the bottom part of a cotton knit dress) with its nautical stripes, as well as the no-good-for-snow-and-ice sneakers) attest. I know, I know, we still have another month or so when snow and ice and grey days are fair game, really. A mountain pass with snow flurries, even.  But it's coming. . . .

And where you are? Is the weather beginning to shift as we move toward the equinox? Is your wardrobe shifting slightly with it? Or perhaps the weather's not shifting at all, so you're making some wardrobe adjustments to try shifting your mood instead? Or, like Sue, you've wearied so much of winter that you've packed a bag or two to suit the season you're flying to. As always, we could chat about any of this if you care to leave a comment below.  I'll be busy over the next day or so, but you know I'll see your comments as they come in, and they're always so welcome.

Now, off you go and Happy Weekend to you!

Monday, February 20, 2017

It's Beginning. . . . Spring is On Its Way (and bringing some continuing thoughts on Retired Life)

 As you will know if you've been reading here for any time at all, one of the toughest aspects of this move, for me, has been leaving behind a garden I'd created and nurtured for well over twenty years. Especially at this time of year -- I'd planted so many fragrant winter-flowering plants, so many bulbs from which bright small flowers emerged and invited noses down to the ground, so many shrubs whose leaves unfurled early or perennials that pushed their way through the late-winter soil -- all antidotes to February, which can be a surprisingly long month for one with only 28 days. . . Last February, for example, there was this blooming in my garden on the island
 But we did manage to find a condo that has a decent-sized terrace, and the previous owners were keen gardeners who left us a great foundation of planted pots with some lovely small trees, shrubs, and vines. I was only here for two weeks last fall, and by the time I got home in snowy, cold December, most of the herbaceous perennials had hidden themselves underground (although there's a campanula that has stayed green all winter and generously offered some cheery blue bells straight through the calendar).
 It's warmed up here in the last week or so, although it's also been quite grey and rainy. One day, however, I was watching a cloud of bush tits descend on the suet feeder, and I noticed a leaf apparently unfolding on the potted hydrangea. So I popped out for a wander with my camera. And it turns out that there's all kinds of life happening out there, beyond the avian. . . .
 It looks as if there are going to be a (very) few spring blooms. A good start, and we'll be sure to augment that for next year.

 And roses are getting ready to do their thing -- I always love the tender pink that insinuates itself into new shoots. . . and even bare, the branches offer some wonderful shadowplay in the sunshine. . .
 Above, the campanula I spoke of -- it's nestled in a micro-climate within a micro-climate, very protected in a little corner nook, and happily green through December and January. We're very grateful....

Below, not on our terrace, sadly, but I've been seeing so many snowdrops while out running, and I often use them as an excuse to stop. . . .
I've been reading the many thoughtful comments on Friday's post and have responded to most of them by now, although I'm not quite caught up. It's obvious that this is a topic many of us want to discuss, so I'm going to continue the conversation as promised. Not quite ready to do that today, in this space, but if you haven't read that post yet, or if you haven't had a chance to read through all the comments, I'm happy to keep hosting a chat there for the moment.  And before I move to another, separate post as follow-up, perhaps I could ask you to think a bit about What You're Hoping For from your Retirement -- and perhaps why you've had to put that off until now. . .  I guess what I'm wondering about is just how much transformation is possible at the age when retirement generally happens.  How much continuity are you planning on? Or how much have you experienced?

I suppose the reason I'm plucking this thread out of Friday's tangle is that I often read a push here in some readers' comments, for me to be different than I am. I do think that it's worthwhile to examine choices and patterns and to be open to change -- a brief survey of this blog will testify to my willingness to be self-reflexive, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, if not boredom! But the selves we bring to Retirement are the same selves we moved through the WorkPlace.  In an ideal world, quite honestly, if I had time and energy in astonishing abundance, I would still be working because I loved so much of my job (in that ideal world, of course, constant cutbacks and odious politics would have disappeared). But I have always been a bit of a magpie in my interests, and I chose to have four children, and there are still only twenty-four hours on the day's clock. . .

Your Mileage May Vary. I think that's what I most want to honour here, that we will all approach Retirement differently. Some degree of Selfishness, after a lifetime that, for some, seemed not to allow that possibility, might finally be claimed -- speak up, as Giulia did, those of you who think this is the most important message for your Retirement. Some of us learned this value earlier than others -- I had to be fairly Selfish, for example, to go back to finish my BA, then earn graduate degrees, while still raising kids -- and for those folk, Retirement might be a chance to take the Career (or whatever) blinders off and attend to domestic pleasures and even obligations that had to be sacrificed along the way.

As for me, this week I'm "selfishly" heading to a two-day Drawing Course in my old stomping grounds, and folding in some visits with friends and a visit to my son's family. I have a light post ready to publish later (me in spring colours!) and I'll be reading your comments, but extended thinking about, well, anything, will probably be delayed. (As usual, I'll probably post on Instagram in between.)

In the meantime, the mic's all yours. Let's talk about Spring Gardens or Retirement Plans or The Value of Selfishness or whatever connections you wish to make. Thank you in advance. . . .


Friday, February 17, 2017

Five Things Friday, Home Alone. . .

My week alone wasn't as productive as I'd hoped, but I did finish this handknit doll and sew up the tulle skirt to match her new owner's preferred style of dress. . . .

I called my bluff this week. Gave myself the potential free time that I've been claiming I want but surprisingly (considering my retired state) can't seem to consolidate. Instead of a week in Portland, Oregon, accompanying my husband who was travelling for work, I sent him off on his own. This despite the fact that I love the city, that I had a great time wandering there (with camera) last year at this time, that I was looking forward to dinners together each evening reviewing our respective days in the Foodie City's many great restaurants, pubs, even food trucks....

My decision was fairly last-minute, but I'll admit my hesitations began shortly after the presidential inauguration. Crossing the border felt much less palatable when my privilege to do so was so unpleasantly highlighted. Still, I probably could have plugged my nose and made the trip if I'd had a January of full health and if I'd felt everything was in order in our new home, and if I weren't traveling a bit, fairly locally, in the next short while. The reality, though, is that after last year's moves and travel, coupled with winter downtime due to weather and illness, I'm becoming impatient for a productive or purposeful rhythm of my own,. And I know, I know, Patience is a virtue, et cetera, et cetera.

But.

Impatience is also a good way of identifying desires, right? And for me, part of this whole retirement and moving gig is figuring out what I want to do now. Perhaps, even, who I am, or who I want to be.

And what I can see so clearly right now -- and couldn't quite have imagined when I was so busy at work that I rarely had an evening or a weekend during term that was marking-free -- what I can see now is that without work firmly in place to stake out time for me (and at least that part of my identity that was built around work), it is all too easy to spend one's time reactively. In fact, while I'm eager to see my guy again when he gets back later today, I could use another week on my own. Because as it turns out, I've only barely cleared space -- mental, emotional, and actual material, physical space in the condo -- to get started on a few projects I've identified for myself.
although she stole many hours from other creative activities I might prefer, knitting this doll was fun to make and a labour of love for a faraway 2-year-old granddaughter. Unfortunately for me, 4-year-old and 8-year-old g'daughters have already declared an interest in having one as well. . . 


More on those projects later (I do that too often, don't I, promise "more on this later," and then catch myself up in a string of obligations. . . . Hmmmm, might have to tackle that problem. . . later!)

For today's Friday Five, here are Five Things I Did in my Week to Myself

1. Baby-sat. I got to hang out with an Almost Two one morning, and I had two dinners and one overnight visit with an Eight. This was time spent happily, and time spent voluntarily (yes, the kids asked me to b-sit, but they would have readily accepted a "No"). Still, since I'm trying to see my way forward to what I want to do with the next 20-ish years, it's worth acknowledging that I gave a big chunk of time and energy to spending time with my grandkids.  At the moment, this is a choice I make joyfully, but I need to remind myself that choices generally come with consequences, and if/when I find myself complaining that I don't have enough time for, say, creative acitivities of my own. . . .

2. Yoga. Two classes. Here's another example of something I do voluntarily, even joyfully, but that takes time away from keeping my home and life as organised as I might want them to be. It's a choice, and although I believe it's a necessary choice for a healthy life, the two classes pull another five hours of "free time" out of my week.  In return, of course, they also ground me, make me stronger, and replenish my energy levels.  In terms of the immediate trade-off -- turning down a trip to Portland in favour of a week at home -- I think this investment was worthwhile. Re-establishing my fitness routine and bringing back some mobility to stiffened joints and tightened muscles boosts my confidence that I'm finally "getting it together," developing a schedule that supports a satisfying urban lifestyle.

3. Doctor's appointment. We were very relieved, in December, that our daughter's GP accepted us as patients. Physicians are in short supply in the city, and so many rely on walk-in clinics where continuity of care isn't easily established. Neither of us has needed much medical care and we've been known to miss more than a few annual check-ups, but we're aware that we've moved into a period of our life that might demand more vigilance. So last week, we finally got to the lab for the bloodwork the new clinic wanted done, and this week, I met with my new doctor. Time very well spent, and I feel as if I've advanced some of my organisation goals, ticked off a very important box in the Must-Do list. Because I stayed home this week, I was also able to grab a spot that opened up in my Physiotherapist's calendar, and between Doctor, Physio, and Yoga, I'm feeling as if I'm on the mend and striding forward....

4. Met a blogging friend for lunch and had a great time. These meet-ups are always exciting, generally (as this get-together was) fun, but let's face it, they demand a commitment of organisation, social energy, and, of course, time.  And when you travel quite a bit, it's very easy to be distracted by that novelty and to neglect putting in the time that relationships require. Staying home for the week saved me time to invest in my own social life -- even if it didn't save me enough time to do the zillion things I seem to have hoped I might do. . . . .

because for Number 5, I will have to squish together. . . .

5. Reading (not nearly as much as I hoped); Knitting (ditto, although I finished a little boy's garter-stitch hoodie, and have made progress on my own cabled poncho); Drawing (only one day, a 5-minute sketch);  Home-organising (shockingly little -- although I filled a bin with towels we no longer need, and I looked through Every Possible Drawer, Storage Bin, Nook, and Cranny for a tulle skirt I bought my g'daughter last month and intended to add to a parcel for her -- Never found it!); List-Making -- oh, so much needs to be done before we're settled here -- but top of the list, and something I was sure I'd have got done this week, Getting Tax Materials ready for the Accountant; Grocery-shopping -- almost none, preferring instead to work my way through the contents of fridge and pantry, surprisingly adequate;  Finally Getting My Good Camera Out for a City Walk -- didn't happen, will have to go on the list;  Re-establishing Italian Practise -- nope, that didn't happen either; Shopping for a Little Girl's Skirt (see Home-organising, above) to match the one I made her doll. . . .
The rockstar hair was the 4-year-old's suggestion (the 8-year-old told me last night that when I make hers, she'd prefer it NOT to have weird mixed colours) -- the hair took approximately four hours to hook in place, an interesting fact given how I think I want to spend my time. . . .

That's rather breathless, no? And it obviously indicates that I have considerable work to do prioritising what I want to do with my time and energy -- and how, once I know what I want, I'm going to safeguard enough of that time and energy to spend as I wish. Interestingly, having arrived at this point, I'm prepared to have some of that Patience I mentioned above.

I suspect that some of you, already Retired, have done much of this sorting already. I'd love to hear your thoughts, if so. Tell me you don't simply abandon all the items in your Number 5, that you've found ways to honour at least some of those hopes and intentions. I also suspect that some of you, anticipating Retirement within the next few years, will be looking at this hodge-podge either with dismay at the possibility that you might be equally challenged to protect your free time or with a certain (polite, I'm sure, nicely disguised even) scorn that someone could be so scattered.  To that scorn, might I just recite what the kids say these days, "It is what it is" -- and sigh. . . For me, it helps to pin it down so that I can see the tangled process. And then keep moving. And untangling. Perhaps forward to clarity and effective purpose? We'll see. . . .

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Word-less Wednesday, What I Wore....

What with being away all fall -- and before that, having barely got the keys and dropped off the moving boxes at our new urban condo after a big move from a much more rural, sometimes rustic, island lifestyle -- and what with arriving home only three weeks before Christmas with unpacking still to do and all the Christmas preparations and activities . . . and then facing cycles of snowfall, melt, and freezing rain that rendered pedestrian mobility very dangerous. . . plus a New Year's that ushered in a month of cold/'flu followed by a week of Norwalk...


Well, when I write it like that, I see why I've been having a tough time finding my rhythm here.  On top of that, the disruption to my regular exercise routine led to some injuries that could no longer be ignored. . . . honestly, abandoning my running schedule on top of so many other changes recently felt like one too many aspects of my identity lost. . .
Oooh, this one's from a few weeks ago, taken in the hotel room in between lunches and dinners with good friends. Such a great week, when the weather warmed up enough that I could wear sneakers and bare feet!

But I'm working with a physiotherapist now to get myself back into full running form. I'll say a bit more about that and about my health-self-care in general in another post, but for now, I thought I'd share a few photos of me getting out and about recently, working toward building some new routines in a new urban lifestyle.
 "Stand Up Straight," she told herself. . . .
But she still forgot to smile. . . .

All of which is to show that I have been getting out, trying to find a rhythm that will work for me in our new digs. Over the next week, this rhythm will have to include grabbing an umbrella everytime I go out the door -- we have a Rainfall Warning for the next two days, with accompanying cautions about heavy winds, and there's no hint of sunshine in the forecast for at least the next five days. So waterproofed feet and a big umbrella as I head out today to meet a Blogging Friend for lunch. We live in the same city, have corresponded through our blogs for several years, share several interests, yet have never met. Should be fun.

Now tell me the truth: are you getting weary of the sombre outfits? I worry a bit that one of these days I'll arrive home with a bag of yellow and pink and turquoise garments, perhaps even an orange palazzo pant or mauve dress, having been unable to resist the vivacious colours despite knowing I'm unlikely to wear them (although I did expand my Winter Wear palette recently with this coat . . . . Oh, spring, come quickly. . . Please!

Friday, February 10, 2017

Friday at the BirdFeeder (and a Paris TV series for good measure)

Okay, that was a rather horrid week. And the month before it wasn't so great either. But I'm going to hope that I've got the year's worth of viruses done with in one convenient, concentrated bundle, and I'm going to be grateful that that bundle happened during the year's yuckiest weather, so that once we get some sunshine and a modicum of warmth back, I'll be ready to take advantage, in much better health.

Meanwhile, some Friday random...

1. You might remember that we put up a suet feeder and a seed feeder in our terrace garden, right by the windows so that indoors, we have a ringside seat. To put the word out in the avian community, I began, as advised, by sprinkling seed on the ground. And far too quickly we attracted a bevy of opportunistic sparrows. Song sparrows would have been fine, but these were common sparrows, aka house sparrows, aka English sparrows. If you've ever had them hopping on your picnic table watching you eat a sandwich, you know these are probably not a bird to encourage. I worried I'd created a pest problem. Thankfully, the solution was surprisingly simple -- a bit of research revealed that these sparrows are only comfortable feeding on a fairly open, solid surface (the ground, a picnic table....),  so I immediately stopped scattering the seed and instead waited for the right candidates to find the hanging dinner bell feeder whose two-inch sides would apparently deter the sparrows.

Meanwhile, the suet feeder had several visits from Common/Northern flickers, which was exciting because of their size and their colouring, and just because woodpeckers are always cool. We used to host many of them on the island, but I'd never expected to have them on an urban terrace garden.

And the seed feeder occasionally drew chickadees, which I was happy to see because I've been told other birds tend to watch chickadees, following them to food sources. If chickadees arrive at your feeder, apparently, word will get out and your bird lists will lengthen... Of course, chickadees are completely delightful in themselves (else why would they have been named so charmingly?!)

But so far, my favourite visitors are the bush tits that swarm in, a roiling bundle of tiny moving parts, constant activity, tails forking and wagging and tiny heads leaning in through the cage-grid of the feeder, their wee claws gripping them steady, their puffy breasts shifting to effect the best angle. Eight, nine, ten of them will vie for spots on the feeder's face, jostling each other as they push beaks into the block of seed-and-berry-stuffed fat. A few food grabs and then a dart over to play on a nearby wisteria vine, a fake tumble down from the maple nearby. I won't swear to cartwheels, but they've definitely mastered somersaults, and I'm sure I've seen the odd headstand. It's all motion, all the time, with these guys, and when they deign to drop by, we stop everything to watch. They rarely stay more than three, perhaps five, minutes before they take the show elsewhere -- like one of those magic rainbow moments when the sun shines briefly through a crazy rainstorm. although perhaps I should reverse that analogy, 'cause while they make us feel pretty rainbow-sunshine-happy, their antics get closer to the rainstorm's energy. . .

Interestingly, although we were told that the tits (pause to giggle) would only eat at the suet feeder (a major reason for buying that device and filling it with the (slightly pricey) block of fat for the avian gourmands), our little flock has at least four or five birds who are omnivorous enough to dabble in seed occasionally. Or perhaps they just love the acrobatic possibilities of the hanging tray's pendulum game...

Whichever, it's hard not to feel a bit sympathetic when the sparrows come by and try, yet again, to see if they can manage to eat from their wary perch on its apparently uncomfortably high sides.  We hadn't paid much attention to the feeding habits of the common sparrow before, and given their ability to fly,  to flit from branch to branch at will, we'd never considered they'd be rendered somehow vertiginous, incapable of leaning in to peck the food they desperately wanted, by a surrounding edge of half their body length. Why not simply hop down into the feeder? In fact, there is one among them who gets himself off the lip and onto the floor of the dish, even grabs a few seeds. But given how quickly he leaves, after such a meagre feed,  I'm wondering if he enjoys those seeds about as much as I would like anything I tried to eat on a roller coaster. (You're right, I've never been on a roller coaster. I don't think that negates my point.)

And some days I swear we could add a new "call" to the bushtit's known repertoire: it goes something like "Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah."

2. Having begun this with the intention of a Five Things Friday, I now see that Number One might perhaps stand on its own. What say you? I'm thinking I might conserve my returning energy and health by saving the other items for posts-to-come. And speaking of posts-to-come, yes, I'm still thinking about the post on the stage of life I find myself in as mother, grandmother, wife, and the way my/our friends' image of us can be a helpful complement to the way family
does sees us. . . right now, though, personal circumstances dictate I tread very carefully through that terrain. It's best I wait a bit before writing. I know you'll understand.

3. Oh, alright, just to move back to upbeat before we head off for the weekend. . . . one more Not-Quite-Five-on-Friday. For the francophiles and Paris-lovers among us, my sister-in-law texted the other day to ask if I'd been watching Call My Agent on Netflix. I hadn't even heard of it, but quickly checked it out. It's set in Paris in a talent agency -- so yes, beautiful people dressed in some pretty good clothes in amusing and dramatic situations against some pretty glamorous backdrops. We've been watching it with French audio and French subtitles (I use subtitles even in English shows, thanks to my hearing impairment -- having them available in French is a treat that really helps me develop aural comprehension) -- but there are English translations as well.

There you go. Three on Friday. Sans photos. Hoping to do better next week. Now off you go to get your weekend started. Leave me a comment first, though, if you can spare a minute -- I always appreciate them.  Any weekend plans? And if there are any backyard birders out there, perhaps you can offer me some tips or anecdotes? Favourite birds? Birds to keep away?


Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Weight Loss, the Hard Way. . . .

The "good news" is that the scales tell me I've lost 6 pounds since Saturday. . . .
The bad news is a most horrid variety of Gastro-enteritis (or some such beast)... I thought I was recovering yesterday, Pater's suffering from the same bug having lasted only a day and a half.
I even managed some knitting, a short walk, ate a little dinner.
But apparently that was a mistake and today will be spent very quietly with very careful efforts to rehydrate slowly without triggering. . . . well, you know. . . .

Radio silence will continue.
I am occasionally mustering energy to post a pic on Instagram. Might be a little while before there are words back in this spot....
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