A slow morning where Sal woke up, stretched his lazy furry doggy head out and rested it on my shoulder, then gave a long, deep, contented sigh. We are Pack.
A solid scramble up ice covered trails to the peak of Mount Philo to discover a sign which names all the Adirondack peaks from their profile as viewed from Vermont. I have been looking for that for a long, long time.
The Rum Diaries, a movie that has kept my up way too late but somehow eludes to some important point, something essential, although I am not sure what yet.
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