Dearest,

Monday, September 14, 2009

It's raining, It's pouring, the old man is snoring. He went to bed and bumped his head and couldn't get up in the morning.

Posted by Heather at 6:35 AM

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Heather: There's heather in the meadows, there's heather by the sea. There's heather in the garden, for that's what they named me.

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The abundance of words and array of pictures that are located on this blog, are possessions of Heather Marie, unless she tells you that they are not, in which case you must not believe that they are hers.