photography of mon pèreI'm sure you've figured by now, I love my home. My home of origin. Which, although it is one of the continental stars, is a little bit of something all its own. I kind of wish I was on a flight home to go sandbag with my parents and friends and people who went through my checkstand at the grocery store I worked at in high school. It wouldn't matter that I would spend the rest of my life cold and wet or that there are only coffee pots and no hot cocoa pots.
I'll go sandbag with you, especially if it will get me out of finals! Yikes, the semester is almost over and I what do I have to show for it?
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