Words are swirling, but I can seem to match their gelling up with time at the keyboard. Clients call, boys leave on planes (one of mine, that is, alone, and yes he’s old enough and so am i but oh the apron strings that tangle and yes appear magically out of thin air, where did they come from?) and cats need to be rescued from porches. The cryptic title up there?* Any guesses?
I’ll be back, soon.