The pure joy of just everyday stuff with her redistributes the well being. It comes despite the ambiguity of phrases with no apparent meaning. They mean the ticker tape is on and the dings seem like they're in the minority. Like walking down the gangplank ready to get your land legs, the camera-ready version of the moment is confidence in a search result. Not too shabby for a voracious reader in remission. Curled up with a book is now cross-legged rubbing tummy with one hand and word balancing with the other. Too bad most of the stuff that comes out is similar to the raconteur with larynvaginis.

The honey coating is the long arc from the 3:30 wake-up featuring a fully functional 25 at midday. The heart-flutter goes out to that stronger-than-fiction trail boss. If grets are scottish for weep with laments then to do it all over again {regrets}, I'm out.