Aaahhhh, weedhound. There you are! I confess I missed you a bit. Perhaps I’ve become more lenient in my old age. Or perhaps it’s just that I don’t deal so well with change. Whatever the reason, I found myself smiling as I opened the stairwell last night and exited into a hallway filled with that familiar pungent aroma. “Weedhound’s at it again!” I chuckled to myself, shaking my head with exasperated affection.
Be warned, weedhound. You caught me on a good day. I’d consider this response an aberration.
For now, though, it’s good to know that you’re OK. Carry on, my wayward son.
Until next time,
S.
Hey Sheila! Good to know you’re up and about. Hope all is well.
Ivan