Surrounded by piles of receipts and tax records on the living room floor, I tackled the taxman’s demands this morning. I was preparing for an ominous meeting with our tax preparer on Tuesday (yes, my Beloved scheduled a romantic rendezvous over the tax code on Valentine’s Day).
The little bearded lady, meanwhile, was chasing the sun. From one chair to another,
she moved locations as a shaft of sun did. The best location, though, was down on the floor with me. And my paperwork.
Well, at least one of us enjoyed our Saturday morning.