Reflections on Bliss from the 32nd floor

Ahhh, days of old...

Nothing so innocently blissful as Youth... as I, frolicking through childhood with the chickens and the horses, breathed in the fresh scent of rolling fields, having not a care in the world.

Back to reality-the workpile (the drawingboard if you will). I peek out the window from this thirty-second floor, watching the ants below on Main St... dodging raindrops and going back to their offices no doubt-It's Tuesday afternoon.

Happy Birthday Daddy!!!!

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