|Espresso, "That's 'Mister Handsome Devil to you!"|
|Espresso, "Nice, eh? I can look down looking up."|
|Espresso, "Bend that knee a little deeper, hoomin!"|
The tropics are quiet, cookies are extorted, and there's nothing to complain about. There's nothing to brag about either, but that's how the digestive sometimes crumbles.
My hoomin is ready for a nap already, just like us. Then there are some loose ends to tie up on a few art projects, and that's the extent of our agenda. And chores. You know, bin cleanup, stuff like that.
I let some sneezes out this week, so that's not good. My hoomin promised to finish a proper nebulizing pod for us - just in case, you understand.
It will serve as storage for a few "grab-n-go" essentials when not used as intended. Bun must always be mindful about living in La Florida and its possible pestilence of such rubbish as storms and hurricanes.
We'll keep you posted!