One of my kids called from Connecticut, while I
was out on the farmers fields road.
They told me they were in their living room,
wrapped in their quilt, while the fresh air from the open windows streamed into
the room.
Like a fragrant bouquet .
I know. I crave fresh air.
I know. I crave fresh air.
Which makes me think that, potato/potahtoh,
I wonder
if we are genetically comprised of two groups -
The no-it's-ok-keep-those-windows-shut-tight,
or
the
Oh-my-God-
Oh-my-God-
I've-been-desperate-
for-fresh-air-
please-finally-let-it-in.
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