This morning I decided to take a sickie from work because I was tired and not feeling the best. So I called in sick, changed my doctor’s appointment to today and crawled back to bed. Whereupon the phone rang. It was my dad, telling me that my grandfather had died. I still don’t know when exactly. And I’m not exactly sure of the details except that he was out on the farm, picking apples on a lovely November day.
A sparsely-updated blog by a crazy woman with bad taste in almost everything.
