Yesterday morning, as I was getting the boys ready for school, Steve noticed a raccoon sleeping in a ball on our doormat. He was fat (assuming the raccoon was male), had some grey fur, and was snoozing comfortably against our patio door off the kitchen. It was strange...
I think of life as a good book. The further you get into it, the more it begins to make sense.
I have always imagined that paradise will be a kind of library.
— Jorge Luis Borges