Lovely Topaz wants nothing more on a one hundred degree day than a window sill and a breeze.
Long weekend. Tomorrow, I’m going to simmer some blueberries until they turn to jam. Brutal I know, but it must be done.
In Just Awhile Because You’re On
Poor Impulse Control
Target shootin' with the Gun Moll of the Revolution
Poor Impulse Control 
Were I a blueberry, I’d be afearing your simmering.