Monday, December 27, 2004


For the second time this year a snowplow has taken out my mailbox. I should be allowed to go over to town hall and break a window or something.

Making up for lost time.

My last real post was eons ago. Since that time:

- We've made sure Alexandra can't end up in (catholic) limbo.
- Introduced her to her male cousins. **Note, despite her diminuitive stature, she clearly rules the clan.
- Was reminded that the Northeast is not the midwest. Ever been to a Cabela's? Everything can either kill something, or was once living. When's the last time you dressed your child in camo and gave him/her a "Hunter Dan" doll?
- Heard "I never get to see my granddaughter," from my mother-in-law.
- (repeat previous item 100x) .
**Note, she's never gone more than 2 weeks without seeing her.**
-I've gained 8 pounds, nearly an all-time high at 173.5. Time to get it in gear.
- Visited Alexandra's friend from the baby home, Peter. He lives with our friends Paul and Carol in Ma.

So not too much has happened. I still love being a dad. I'm away from Leanna and Alexandra for the first time. It sucks.

"A winter's day...

... in a deep and dark December.
I am alone.
Gazing from my window, to the streets below,
on a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.

I am a rock. I am an island.

I've built walls, a fortress deep and mighty.
That none may penetrate..."
-Simon and Garfunkel

I put this CD in for the first time in years. I didn't even realize why immediately. It was a subconscious decision. I'm alone in the house this week. Leanna and Alexandra are in Connecticut. I'll be joining them Thursday.

I'm officially starting my build up for Ironman USA (yesterday). It's lonely work.

If you get a chance, listen to the whole song or read the lyrics ("I am a rock.")

Thursday, December 09, 2004

So much to write. So little time.

I will catch up shortly...maybe this weekend.

Saturday, November 20, 2004

Alexandra's Baptism Posted by Hello

Your thoughts, please.

Interested in feedback on the following article, especially towards the bottom of the page. What would it take for you to allow your child to undergo this procedure?

Amazing what you find in the cracks of the sofa

I found a word document on my laptop from August of last year. It brought back intense memories.

July 1, 2003

I’ve never done an Ironman. I don’t know what race day will feel like; I can only guess. It’s that way with a lot of things, in my life and probably in yours. With less than 26 days to go, I can offer this: I believe the preparation will have been the challenge, and race day just a reflection of the previous 299 days.

I began this journey with two goals, finish the one triathlon distance missing from my resume, and to silence the voices inside my head which say I can’t. The one’s who say I’m a fraud and that there is nothing remarkable about me.

July 27, 2003

As for the race, the finish time doesn't even begin to tell the story. As the canon sounded and the race began to U2's "Beautiful Day", the helicopter overhead taking pictures, I watched the first surge of swimmers go. In retrospect, all strategy aside, I'm glad I got to see that. It was incredible. It was also chaotic.

Following the initial surge, I and a couple hundred of my newest friends pushed off to start. The very first physical feeling of the race was a searing pain in my left foot as I pushed off on the edge of a sharp rock and punctured my foot just below the fleshy part. It was the first test of day, and I would learn throughout the day that in a way all tests of my will, all difficulties would be the same, in that they tried to force me into thinking about the race as a whole and question my ability to overcome this monumental task. In the end, the answer also proved to be the same: Live in the moment and don't worry about what might be. Maybe my foot will be too sore to run, maybe it won't, but right now I'm swimming, and it isn't affecting that one bit.

The first leg of the bike I rode pretty conservatively. My plan was to ride so I could run. The test on lap one was to keep my ego in check as rider after rider went cruising by me. Maybe I'd catch them again, maybe not, but either way that wasn't in the plan. On the second loop I began getting bad indigestion, and by mile 71 it kept me from eating, drinking, or getting on my aerobars. Once again the voices started telling me that even if I somehow struggled through the rest of the bike, there was no way I could run, so just stop now. The lack of nutrition led to leg cramps the second time past Whiteface, but I just focused up the road and told myself to keep going easy and it would come back to me. As soon as the nausea began to pass I was able to put down a couple of GU packets and some Gatorade. By the three bears I knew I was going to make it in and give the run a go.

Once again I took a leisurely transition to allow myself to recover a bit. I set out with a strict run plan of 12 minutes run, 2 minutes walk, something I've practiced numerous times. An amazing thing happened as I exited the oval for the run; I actually felt good. Not just capable of shuffling, but really ready to run. And now I was not alone, I had the crowd on my side.

The next 4 hours were incredible. I had one scare at the first mile point when both hamstrings cramped simultaneously, but with a lot of encouragement from a fellow racer I was able to first shuffle, then walk, and finally run my way through it. It was a scary moment as I was literally stopped stone cold, like a mannequin, in the middle of the road unable to move any direction. As I started to move and my legs relaxed I knew I was going to finish. No matter how bad it got from there, and I was fully aware that there would be more pain, I was able to overcome it. The doubt was completely gone and I think I smiled the whole way. I remember so many feelings, so many nameless people (and many named like Cait whose cheers came through loud and clear..."Is that JOEL? You look great!") who were all cheering for me in that nasty weather. The volunteer who was so concerned that nobody had a GU packet available when I came by, that she chased me down the course and actually caught up with me a 1/4 mile later, even though it obviously hurt her physically to do so. I wasn't flying, but I was still running 7:50 - 8:00 minutes per mile at that point and she wasn't an athlete. I was just overwhelmed by the dedication. I'm attaching my finish photo, because I think it says it all. (the young man is my nephew Corey) I'm feeling rejuvenated, albeit tired, but I don't think this high will ever fade completely.



Friday, November 19, 2004

All good things must come to an end.

For most of the last week Alexandra has had what might possibly be a perfect schedule...until tonight. She's been waking up crying quite a bit. I think she's having nightmares of Thanksgiving with her cousins! :-)

(I'm kidding, of course.)

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Alexandra's first night on the town.

The three of us went out for dinner last night. We chose a local restaurant, The Red Parrot, that was very informal and was sure to have lots of activity. We arrived at about 6:00 pm, and it was already pretty busy. I meant to check if there was a cruise ship in the harbor, because there were lots of big groups. Maybe it was a parent's weekend at Salve Regina or St. George's.

I think Daddy was more impatient and antsy than Alexandra or Leanna. There were no worries. With so much activity, there was plenty for Alexandra to watch, including lots of children. And with all the noise, she could have had a world class meltdown, and nobody would have noticed. Our poor waitress kept getting hit with huge (10 - 12 person) groups. (Don't worry, I took care of her.)

It was a very successful trip out. In fact it did dawn on me that a year from now it will probably be more difficult to go out, because that hook-on-the-table chair just won't get it done anymore. She's going to want to hit the floor and start going.

One final note: Alexandra was baptized last weekend. Here's a picture of her in her outfit (the same one in which Leanna was baptized, incidentally).
Posted by Hello

Another blast from the past

(with Ted Marks)
Head of the Charles, 1992. Posted by Hello

Thursday, November 11, 2004

One person's Holiday...

Okay, so I'm home today. My company gives us Veteran's day off. Time to just "screw off" right? Well no. Holiday for daddy, means day off for mommy and daddy get's to watch Alexandra. Of course Leanna will read this and think I'm complaining, but I'm not. It's been almost two weeks since I got to spend the whole day with my little peanut. However, I am interested in seeing how she takes to my "day off" routine (within reason). I get up, make my coffee, read e-mail, watch SportCenter. Sometime late morning I go for a run (it'll be with the jogging stroller of course). I come back and find some food. Later I'll meet my friend Austin (a.k.a. the only person who comments on these posts) for coffee. I figure Alexandra will go to sleep on the run, and then nap for a bit after we get back. When she wakes up she'll need feeding, so coffee will most likely be after that, about 2:00pm.

Sounds like a plan, right? I'll post the results later on. Wish me luck!

Update: 7:48 PM
Ouch...4.3 very slow hard miles. Alexandra went out like a light about two steps off the driveway. I read an article by Kristin Armstrong in Runner's World that she'll go out with a triple jogger. Wow. Lance wasn't the only stud in that marriage.

Do you believe in Karma, Jujube, what have you? I was setting up a spreadsheet today to begin work on my Ironman training plan. I labeled the first column with today's date. I labeled the subsequent columns with tomorrow, the next day, etc... Excel has a limit on how many columns you may have. So what was the date on the last column? July 24, 2005 ... Race day!

PS: Leanna took over at 2:00 today, so I met Austin and ran errands the rest of the day.

Monday, November 08, 2004

Questions of faith

I read another blog which stated basic guidelines for making you blog "work" (meaningful to others).

"Blogs work when they are based on:
and Controversy
(maybe Utility if you want six)."

I fail on most accounts, so clearly nobody cares about what I have to say. Another goal accomplished! The more people care about what I have to say, the more responsible I must become. I've got enough responsibility.

However, I'll take one stab at a "working" post. Here's your controversy (or point for religious debate, you decide):
Who is less pious, the man who gets drunk on Saturday night and misses church, or the man who gets drunk on Sunday morning and makes it?

Thursday, November 04, 2004

It's okay, I've been to Europe.

When did you first notice time creeping past?

I'm so tired I can't remember my own name. It's not from lack of sleep, it's from a lack of any mental downtime. Alexandra is fantastic, but even so there is never a moment when some part of my consciousness (or unconsciousness) is focused on her. Now that she's ready to crawl, my house seems like a death trap. Everything it seems is a "choking hazard."

Anyway, I digress. What I meant to write about was events from what seems like a lifetime ago: my days as a rowing coach at Pitt. It really hit me that that was a long time ago when I found I couldn't remember the names of people in one of my boats. And not just any boat, but a Dad Vail medallist (for you non-rowers, that's the year end championship race for smaller programs). I'm not even sure of the color of the medal they won! I remember all of my early rowers, even the women who thought I always liked the men's team better. Here's the honest truth: I did not like them better, I was just more comfortable with them. I coached from age 22 - 28. I was barely older than most of them, and in fact younger than some.

I'm 38 now and hopefully a little more wise, if also more forgetful. I'm still young, but darn tired. I've reconnected with some of the team through a Pitt rowing alumni message board. However two questions still remain: Who was in my Novice Men's 4+ in 1992, and what color was the medal?

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

That was different

I'm definitely not the athlete I once was. Cape Cod was a very different experience from any marathon I've ever run. I went out at what I felt was a sustainable pace, one which would give me a shot of running my target time. I hit the 1/2 way point in 1:34:30, my slowest first half of a marathon ever. If I stayed true to my form from every other marathon, I'd fade about 7 minutes on the harder, second half of the course and finish in 3:15:00, my goal time.

The second 1/2 was not a 1:41, not even close. Instead I rolled home in a 1:34:12, for a total time of 3:08:42, good enough for 57th place (out of 920) and my third fastest time ever. But the real surprise came the next morning when I felt no leg, especially quadriceps, soreness. Sure I was tired, but everything felt great. Believe me that's never happened before.

Okay I'm done patting myself on the back. In the end, it demonstrated to me that being a dad won't end my racing career. It might even enhance it, after all I had a great Halloween with Leanna and Alexandra!

Place Div/Tot Name Div City St Nettime Guntime
57 25/239 Joel Kehm M1439 Middletown RI 3:08:42 3:08:47

2004 Cape Cod Marathon Results

Saturday, October 30, 2004

The Future is Unwritten

I'm watching Grosse Pointe Blank. A banner displays "The Future is Unwritten." I've seen this movie 7 or 8 times and have never noticed the banner, and yet during a fight seen in Martin Blank's former high school, the banner is shown, in focus, many times. The director is trying to tell us something. Because I just noticed it today, is someone trying to tell me something?

Tomorrow I'm running the Cape Cod Marathon. I don't think destiny will make an appearance, so I'll save further discussion of the banner for a later date. I'm sure I'll think about the banner during the race. What else is there to do for 3 hours and 15 minutes? 3:15, that's the magic number. That's the number that's gets me back into the Boston Marathon for the first time since 1999.

I'm nervous. To say I've had very limited and only somewhat focused preparation for this event is an understatement. If you've read this Blog, you know what I've been doing. However, it's important to me that I do this. It's the first goal I've set for myself since we brought Alexandra home. It's important to me to add her to my life, not replace my life now that she's here. She won't be there tomorrow, but if I succeed she'll join me in Boston next April!

Will I run a 3:15? I have no idea. I've never run slower than a 3:14 in any marathon I've finished. The last time I ran this course, in 1996, I ran a 3:09. My personal best is a 3:04 set at Boston in 1998. And all that means nothing. Tomorrow, the only thing I know for sure is that I'll not quit, and it will hurt. So will it be good enough? Who knows? After all anything is possible. The future is unwritten.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

Hollywood wishes they came up with this...

Total Eclipse of the Moon
o ' o '
W071 05, N42 19
Eastern Daylight Time
Azimuth Altitude
h m o o
Moonrise 2004 Oct 27 17:33 73.5 ----
Moon enters penumbra 2004 Oct 27 20:05.5 97.9 26.8
Moon enters umbra 2004 Oct 27 21:14.3 111.0 39.0
Moon enters totality 2004 Oct 27 22:23.4 128.3 50.1
Middle of eclipse 2004 Oct 27 23:04.0 141.7 55.4
Moon leaves totality 2004 Oct 27 23:44.6 158.3 59.3

Moon leaves umbra 2004 Oct 28 00:53.7 191.4 60.7
Moon leaves penumbra 2004 Oct 28 02:02.7 221.1 55.3
Moonset 2004 Oct 28 07:41 290.8 ----

Red Sox are World Series Champions
(and the moon it the same moon?)

Monday, October 25, 2004

The List

"Do you know about the List? You've got to make the list! It's almost more important than the presents."

The List is a list of who gave which gift at the baby shower. For possibly the first time in human history, a male was the guest of honor at a baby shower. No this was not by design. We are not some sort of progressive couple. Leanna was just plain sick, and couldn't go. Unfortunately the symptoms didn't get really bad until just before the shower, so it was too late to reschedule. Thus it was just Alexandra and I and a room full of women (with their men being attentive!).

I've always been pretty good at thinking on my feet. To divert attention from my bumbling, I placed Alexandra in her Exersaucer in the middle of the room. It worked like a charm. I also was the beneficiary of some wonderful people who took pity on my plight and thus made the list and helped me generally keep things in order. I feel enriched by the experience, but hope never to be enriched in this way again!

A fish out of water:


Saturday, October 23, 2004

Metaphysical Masturbation?

The following is rated PG-13 for graphic imagery.
If a Blog is published on the internet, and nobody is there to read it, does it make sense? Perhaps I should direct this and all other questions related to the internet, to its founder, Al Gore.

I've been a father now for 2 weeks, and while I'm not in line for the Hall of Fame, I don't think I suck at it either. I've personally walked into many of the traps little one's lay for us: not having the new diaper ready on the changing table (think fountain), continuing to pat after the burp (and getting the liquids!), and of course not checking for the wipes before removing the very poopie diaper. Makes me wonder who's in charge here. It isn't me, that's for sure...maybe it's Leanna. Anyway, Alexandra's doing very well so we must be doing something right.

Speaking of poop, I think I now understand the origins of "My life is sh-t." In my estimation, this is a very misunderstood phrase as too often people take this figuratively, instead of literally (you read that properly) as I believe was it's original intent. My daily schedule revolves around poop: our baby's (how often, how hard, and DAMN what did she eat?!!!), our geriatric cat's (in the litter box or on the floor?), our dog's (did he go after breakfast?), and naturally carving out a little time for my own; ergo My life is Sh-t! (And to reinforce this point, Otis just farted!)

A final thought for today: I was out running this morning (okay no big surprise here for the other person out there who has been reading this Blog), and I started thinking about destiny, manifest and otherwise. Was it just chance that Leanna and Alexandra came into my life? I'll write more about this later.

My friends I must stop and depart. It wasn't the dog that let that fart. Don't fear I'll keep you in the loop, but I've finished my coffee and now must...

Friday, October 22, 2004


JJK 1992

Totally 80's

I'm watching Vision Quest with Matthew Modine, and it's one of the most 80's movies I've ever seen.

What's your Vision Quest?

Thursday, October 21, 2004

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

The Big Chill

"You got a letter from Kent School. Do you remember a person from high school named Brian?" Leanna's question caught me a little off guard. It says here he went to Kent and then Cornell, and ran cross country while at Kent. I went to Kent and then Cornell, and ran cross country while at Kent. Yes I knew Brian. I hadn't seen him since May 1988, graduation day at Cornell. I briefly wondered why Leanna was asking me that, though I for some reason I feared I knew the answer. "Brian passed away."

I have run for as long as I can remember. I remember my mother, frustrated with my attempts to get her attention while she prepared dinner, "Why don't you go run around the block!" I took her exclamation literally. I would run around our city block. I'd imagine I was a piloting a spaceship as a banked my body around each corner. I always wanted to be an astronaut. Once out on the pavement, I was. It was fun.

I chose to attend Kent School because they had an excellent horseback riding program, and I loved riding and jumping horses. However, my experience with horses had been at summer camp, and while I had the riding skills, I was not ready to interact with the privileged "Horse People." My last day in the riding program I missed the bus back to the boys campus at Kent, so I ran 6 1/2 miles in riding boots back to my dorm. That day one of the seniors in my dorm recruited me to run cross country.

My first race was against Trinity Pawling. It wasn't pretty, but I finished. I raced low JV cross country the remainder of my 3rd Form (freshman) year at Kent. I followed that up by making the Varsity squad for much of my 4th Form (sophomore) year. I trained under the tutelage of the great British runner Bruce Tulloh. I discovered interval training in the form of a drill called "Indian runs" (do I need to call those "Native American runs"?). And I discovered winning. True the wins came in JV races, but they were wins. In fact each of those wins would be a redemption for a bad race (if a JV runner's time beat a varsity time, the varsity runner would get demoted). One of those wins, at Avon Old Farms, stays with me today. I remember the call of our team captain as I started the final 1/2 mile climb to the finish, "It's all you! There's nobody in sight!"

My fifth form year was a bust. I quit cross country because I was more interested in girls than running.

Now it was the fall of 1983, and I was entering my 6th form (senior) year. What was my legacy? What could I do that was of note?! What could I do to get anyone to notice me?! I could run, so I rejoined cross country. However I was two years removed from my last race, and the faces were mostly new. It quickly became clear that there were no "entitlements." I needed to prove myself or be a "has-been." It's tough to accept being a "has-been" at 17.

As fate would have it, one of the new faces on the team was a classmate of mine, Brian Simmons, who had joined cross country during our 5th form year (while I was on a hormone induced hiatus). He had been a low JV runner that year. Brian and I had never been close friends, but we never disliked each other either. Our paths just converged. He apparently had something to prove as well. It's tough to accept being a "never was" at 17.

A typical long cross country practice would consist of the team starting out together, and then splitting up as we ran, the faster runners moving ahead. As this selection process took place, Brian and I always found ourselves running side by side. There was instant synergy. Despite the disparity in our heights (Brian was taller than I), our strides matched perfectly. Mile after mile we ran in perfect sync, as if there were but a single set of foot falls. We talked about things teenagers talk about; which teachers we liked, which we didn't. We talked about which girls we thought were hot, and why did they always like jerks. We talked about the underclassmen “gunning” to take our spots on the varsity. And we talked about making the Kent cross country "honor role." The honor role was a sheet of paper hung in the cross country locker room. On it were the names of every runner at Kent who had ever posted a time faster than 15 minutes on our 2.8 mile home course. (In our teenage minds) Make the honor role, and you were someone.

Brian and I were two different people who shared some of the same demons. Getting our names on that type-written piece of paper would, at least in our minds, exercise one of them, anonymity. We both ran well that season. Brian was more consistent than I. I had returned to my previous form, having some bad races and following them up with solid performances. However, race after race passed and while we both inched closer to that 15 minute barrier, neither of us broke it. Finally the last home race of our careers was upon us. It was parents weekend and we were racing against Trinity Pawling. Three years earlier I had begun my cross country career against TP. Now I would end my home career against them. Fairytale endings seldom occur in life. Instead life seems to be self-moderating. Good things happen, but they are almost always tempered by terrible things. In the fall of 1983, on an overcast day, Brian and I lined up for the final time on the Kent cross country course.

Brian's gone now, and I'm sitting here drinking wine and remembering a friend. Tomorrow I'll tie on my running shoes, as I always do, and go out on the road. The spaceship will most likely stay in the hanger. And while there might be some intervals run, there won’t be any victories. There will be but a single set of foot falls. I'll think about things older men think about; which managers I like, which I don't. Which women are hot, and why do they always like jerks. I’ll think about how, if someone really wants to take my job, they can give it their best shot. And I'll remember a day in the fall of 1983 when Brian and I made the Kent cross country honor role.

Monday, October 18, 2004

Enduring Questions

How did Tony Little really become Tony Little? How do you break into the infomercial spokesperson industry? How is it I sit behind a desk hammering out e-mails and computer code, while others dispense the following "wisdom"?

(and what is the significance of my spell-checker recognizing the word "infomercial"?)

Sunday, October 17, 2004

Side Effects

By sending the url of this Blog to my relatives, I guess I've stuck a PG rating on it! Perhaps if I start some of the racier material with MOM and DAD, DON'T READ THIS!

I had my first taste of what training for Ironman will be like from now on: Up at 4:45 for feeding and playtime with Alexandra (heretofore known as "Dawn Patrol"), followed by an 8:00 AM hand-off to Leanna so I can put in an 18 mile run (my longest since Ironman last year). I ran a 2:10:16. I'm thinking of it as "acclimating to race conditions;" forcing my body to perform in a state of extreme fatigue.

Product pick of the day: NipGuards

Monday, October 11, 2004

No matter where you go...

It’s 2:00 am and I’m in the middle of Russia on a train heading from St. Petersburg to Moscow. The darkness outside the sleeper car is deep, broken only by the lights of passing trains heading the other direction. The air in my compartment is getting stale, as the vent on the bottom of the door I've blocked with a blanket; a preventative measure to reduce the chances of robbery (we were told the thieves sometimes gas you through the vents, and then break into the cabin). I’m incredibly far removed from my everyday life, most people’s everyday life for that matter. How does a one-time rowing coach, current Ironman triathlete, and computer programmer end up on an overnight train in the heart of the country formerly known as “the Evil Empire?” Is this really happening, or am I just dreaming? I look over at my sleeping wife and six month old daughter, and think,” if it is a dream, I hope I never wake up.” Ironically, the quote from the cult movie The Adventures of Buckaroo Bonzai Across the 8th Dimension plays in my head. “No matter where you go, there you are.” I’m surrounded by my own small, familiar sphere of reality, and everything else is different. I’m just waiting to meet a bunch of people, all named John!

Life has changed dramatically this past year. I felt like the clock was ticking as I was pushing up towards 40 and Leanna and I were still without a family. However, I had also just completed Ironman USA, and while the race itself did not cure anything, for me it pointed the way. After more than twelve hours, it was in the final meters of the race when everything came clear to me. I was jogging down the finishing stretch with my nephew Corey’s hand in mine. Amidst the euphoria of completing the greatest mental and physical test of my life, one very definite thought came into my head. Only one thing could make this moment more perfect; running down the finishing shoot with my own child. I didn’t convey this sentiment to anyone for quite a while. I was afraid that my nephew would perceive it as something negative directed towards him, and it’s far from that. I love Corey, but I need to be a father, not just an uncle.

August passed quietly as I recovered from the exertion, and then came time for Leanna and I to once again address the subject of starting a family. I suggested adoption, and she agreed. In fact, she admitted she too had been considering it. After attending a seminar and talking to others about adoption, we hired our home study agency. That was October, 2003.

It’s October 8, 2004. Another train, a high speed I think, comes screaming past us traveling in the opposite direction, probably headed to St. Petersburg. I’m exhausted, hungry, sick to my stomach, a little feverish (I think I’ve got giardia), crammed into a stuffy 6 x 8 ft. cabin on a train 5000 miles away from my home in Rhode Island, and I’ve never been more content.

Saturday, October 02, 2004

Who's your daddy!

No, I'm not making a Pedro Martinez reference. I'm counting down the days until the next phase of my life officially begins. Leanna and I fly out from Logan Airport tomorrow, bound for St. Petersburg, Russia. "What's in St. Petersburg? " you ask. Actually the more accurate question is, "Who's in St. Petersburg?" A 6 mo. old little girl named Alexandra Lee Kehm, that's who. "How convenient, she's already named Kehm, just like you!" Yeah, yeah I know she's not officially a Kehm until this coming Wednesday, but you wouldn't know it to see her.

To say I'm excited is an understatement. Maybe because of everything we've been through to get here, maybe because I'm 38 now, but I have no sense that "Life as I know it is ending." Life is definitely changing, and I'm ready for the change.

Daddy's little girl... Posted by Hello

Thursday, September 30, 2004


This is the home of my miscellaneous thoughts, observations, and maybe an original composition or two. It may vary in size and quantity, but is perfectly suitable for everyday consumption. It is intended primarily for personal use, and may not be reproduced without express written permission of the owner (me) . No worries, I'm easy!

Have a nice day.