Getting used to trying to talk less to save money.

There is a wild storm here, a hurricane that is flooding places and chanting wildly in the streets, battering the windows.

How are you?

I hope you are well.

Just looked in the mail and saw your letter.

Excited to read it and write you back.

Hubby humming strains of “Good King Wenceslas.”

I want to decouple.

I’m not living your life and I cannot simultaneously affect it with my thoughts, which is crazy thinking anyway.

Thinking always of you.