Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Tag: life

    • Storm’s A’comin’

      Posted at 3:22 pm by kayewer, on August 29, 2026

      On a classic episode of The Golden Girls (but really, which episodes are not classics on that show), preparations were underway for a hurricane a’comin’. They noted that it’s a given for a major storm to be designated as “a’comin’,” and in fact is the only time you hear the phrase.

      I saw a nasty frontal system approaching one evening this past week while on my commute home. Sometimes the major activity naturally draws your attention, and though we have been getting our share of them this year, this one stood out. The clouds in this approaching menace were gigantic, low-slung and ominous, and we had already experienced a deluge of a downpour earlier in the day, punctuated by sheets of heavy rain. Our office building even had a power fluctuation which rattled our nerves. By the time I had left, I was walking on amazingly dry streets and sidewalks. The heat had cooked the entirety of the rainwater away.

      Flash flooding from the coming storm was a near certainty with such a powerful meteorological battlefront on the march. All of the weather experts were pinging cellphones like a symphony all afternoon. I had hoped to stop for fuel and to pick up something from the pharmacy, but decided to head straight home.

      The area became preternaturally dark shortly after I got inside and locked the doors. Fortunately the downpour was not too intense, and a few other spots received the brunt of the activity. Some college freshmen who had just moved into their dorms found floodwaters creeping into their spaces, and a town’s vehicles in low areas ended up under a few feet of water. We were unscathed.

      The accuracy of weather predictions these days is amazing, but it can’t account for the movements nature randomly sends our way. This is why it’s better to not take a risk when unpredictable weather comes and to stay put when its arrival is imminent. Or seek higher ground as appropriate.

      As to why I brought up this subject, shortly after this storm passed I saw video of the mudslides and flash flooding in Nepal which has claimed structures and lives (at last count, about 670, with thousands of locals and visitors missing). There was no time in this instance to plan ahead, as glacial calving (immense melted ice pieces separating from the main structure) are to blame, happened in an instant and with no warning. Climate change may play a role, as it can with many of our abnormal weather patterns.

      When I was heading home, I was driving seemingly toward what I should have been trying to escape. The horizon was boiling with clouds seeming to emerge from midnight itself (at six in the evening), with sunlight nowhere in sight. A force of nature not to be messed with.

      Winter is approaching, and with a predicted super El Nino this year, we will need to be vigilant when weather forecasts appear. It doesn’t appear to be getting any easier, and extreme weather will become part of our lives more and more. As we stand in its path, all we can do is prepare for what’s a’comin’ and hope for the best.

      Next weekend is a holiday with three days off. I hope to have a great story to tell that’s not about the weather.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged family, life, nature, weather, writing
    • What a Hoser

      Posted at 6:12 pm by kayewer, on July 4, 2026

      Everybody has little quirks that can be annoyingly difficult or impossible to overcome. People can’t figure out how to peel hard boiled eggs without wrecking the surface (hint: get under the membrane by starting at the blunt end). Folks chronically forget to fill the gas tank until their vehicle sputters to a halt (and it’s usually on a holiday when prices are jacked up). Others misplace their car keys. We get it, and we sigh and muddle our way through such obstacles.

      Another such roadblock to a smooth life is inanimate objects, whether it’s never being able to flick a lighter to life, keep a shoelace tied, or getting your electronic pass read at the bridge or parking garage. Daily progress comes to a complete stop when something doesn’t work the way it should. Hollywood even wastes footage because of malfunctioning props, so we’re all subject to it.

      Lately I have been having a war of epic stature with garden hoses.

      The hoses my parents had did finally surrender to old age, and I needed to replace them, but luck is not on my side. I have gone through about a dozen of these outdoor must-have contraptions, and for the life of me I cannot get them to function.

      When I saw an ad for a convenient hose which weighed next to nothing and expanded and shrank on its own, I thought it must be the holy (or hosey) grail of water delivery devices. The legacy variety kinks up, never stores easily, handles in the most unwieldy fashion, picks up dirt and debris as it’s dragged from the faucet to whatever you will be watering, and is never the right size for the yard in which it’s being used.

      Something light in weight that wouldn’t kink seemed a godsend. So I bought one.

      Turns out the thing is really an elongated bladder wrapped by a woven cover. Sure, it carries easily and can drape around its holder in half the time of the stiff and stubborn original. However, while it’s expanding it can ruin your landscaping and mow down your shrubbery and flowers. It requires some finagling to figure out how many washers the female coupling needs inside the screw to avoid getting showered with water. No matter what I’ve done, they always leaked. I always got wet.

      They are also sensitive and prone to bursting internally, which effectively ends their lifespan. One lasted eight months, and the other about three. I moved to a new-fangled flat product still guaranteed not to kink, but it didn’t make it through two seasons. So, back to the permanently curled old standby for my next attempt.

      I managed to hook up the hose (righty loosey, lefty tighty), turned it on, and got a free shower.

      Dragged the curly little darling out of the leaking firing line, along the length of the driveway to straighten it out, then moved toward my target for the morning: the birdbath, to give the poor avian world some fresh cool water during a heatwave with temperatures over 100 degrees. I turned on the nozzle and got nothing.

      The gosh-darned thing had kinked (and I didn’t actually say gosh-darned).

      Went back to unkink the hose, which usually looks something like that rope exercise one does in the gym to strengthen the upper arms and turn them into biceps which could feed a family of four zombies. Only this model of hose doesn’t undulate at all. I had to unwind it like an anaconda fresh out of the permafrost.

      Finally, I managed to turn on the nozzle and get a genuine jet of water to wash out the birdbath and fill it with fresh water. Mission accomplished. Sort of. Still needed to put the hose back to someplace it had never been before.

      A fifty-foot hose with the attitude of a snake is a son of a gun to wrestle into any semblance of order. My hose caddy is an F-shaped device on which one supposedly can wind the entire length of hose around and have the end result look like it did when purchased from the hardware store. Truth is it looks more like the cat got to the anaconda. Each coil is a different size, but when you’ve had this experience with hoses you know, like Kenny Rogers said, when to fold. The thing is on one place, and that’s that.

      This may be my cross to bear for a few years, having bought the gold standard of a product which has “always worked” just the way it is. Or rather we have grown to accept its flaws and go into battle knowing the outcome won’t be pretty.

      Just pretty wet.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged adventure, gardening, humor, life, writing
    • All I Ever Wanted

      Posted at 8:01 pm by kayewer, on June 20, 2026

      I just returned from a week’s vacation, and I can honestly say that it is the first one in which I have truly been able to relax.

      The average vacation is not one hundred percent leisure and endless carefree hours (especially for parents), but planning and common sense can make the process easier whether you are a single traveler or a family of four. I started the process early, and from prior experience was able to keep my packing to a minimum (and the return trip even less). My goal was to eat out for dinner, so with my brunch schedule already accounted for, my provisions took up one bag.

      I brought my journal and a crochet project, along with my writing tools. My amusement came mostly from where I was staying, walking and enjoying the various joys of a different place after a winter of unmelting piles of snow.

      I had towels and sheets I keep for just the vacation, which took up one bag. My carry-on bag was already outfitted with my basic flip-flops, sun hat, and various swim gear, and I added daily clothes on top. In the end I only needed to make three trips from the car, and it took me about twenty minutes to unpack and set up.

      What truly surprised me was how well I slept. Without the pending knell of the alarm to answer to, I found restorative rest every morning, which was a prescription no doctor can truly offer if the mind and body are unwilling. Even though the room was as light as mine at home is dark, and sounds unfamiliar to me were easily heard, I found that this past week was helpful beyond the cost of the week. I hadn’t truly realized how the weeks of work and driving (which increased when I was asked to return to the office in February at the height of the brutal winter) had enervated my spirit.

      Now that I’m back home and anticipating the catching up I will need to do (including an amazing amount of laundry in spite of the little I took with me), I realize that such respites are even more necessary at my age, and I will be sure to find another week of rest this year. Whether I stay home or go elsewhere, I know that I owe myself a break from the ordinary.

      Happy summer everybody.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged family, life, travel, vacation, writing
    • Oh Mother!

      Posted at 7:24 pm by kayewer, on May 9, 2026

      May 10 is Mother’s Day, when the world takes a day to reflect on the parent who spearheaded our existence. Whether for good or bad, we all have a mother who produced us cell by cell for roughly nine months, and after that we grew our individual history with guidance from adults and others in our age group. Some of us become parents and carry on the circle of how human population continues on our planet.

      Others may not have the privilege of motherhood in the traditional sense. There is adoption and surrogacy, but there are also those who simply never have the experiences that others take for granted. These are the ones who feel out of place on Mother’s Day.

      We see how other parents tend their children. We watch social media and view the steppingstones in a child’s life. Naturally we know about what mothers endure after childbirth, such as post-partum depression, exhaustion, bodily alterations from breastfeeding and the like. As children grow, mothers tend the school lunches and wardrobes, oversee homework and act as the taxi service to sports practice. Teens still need shuttling to sports practice, and they start dating, adding to a mother’s concerns.

      But one day a year these kids of various ages may go out for brunch with their mothers, or present handmade gifts or flowers.

      Some of us older children pay a visit to a gravesite.

      And a few more simply don’t bother, for a variety of reasons.

      Nor all mothers are great parents, but we all would not be actively doing anything at this moment if somebody didn’t walk the path to bringing us with hearty cries into the universe. Sure there are truly bad mothers (and fathers whose day is coming up as well), but whether our mothers are still part of our active lives or not, they can never truly be erased from memory.

      Whether you are a mother or never have been, this is the day to at least say, “This is the day to remember mothers.”

      Even mothers who did not give you life have contributed much to this world. In addition to raising children, some women invented, wrote novels, worked battlefields or took over men’s jobs (a large contribution in World War II). The multi-tasker mothers of the past two centuries have brought us into a modern world in which possibilities for women and men alike have never been greater. And for the longest time, they changed cloth diapers.

      So here’s to mothers. Where would we be without them?

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged family, life, love, Mother's Day, motherhood
    • Hybridized

      Posted at 3:05 pm by kayewer, on April 25, 2026

      Just when I was starting to truly feel comfortable working from home and had figured that, after nearly six years of it, I would not be going back to the office, I was called back to the office. We are working under a hybrid schedule a few days a week, and then we also work from home.

      This meant much more than just readjusting to the workplace environment. There was now the issue of resuming expenses for transportation in terms of bridge tolls, gas and parking. Meal planning is another animal altogether, and a topic for another time.

      I’m using a different bridge to get to work now, and I fill my tank more frequently. The mileage didn’t change much (about 11 miles), but now I know my car won’t last me as far into retirement. The major highways are brutal proving grounds for motorists, where speed limits are posted but are actually based on a mass-approved code of conduct which is considerably higher. In this world, everybody stays in their space. One doesn’t tailgate too close or lag too far behind. Somebody zooming past and crossing three lanes at 90 is speeding, and nobody likes that.

      At least the parking is subsidized, and of my three location choices I may have made the wisest one. First, it’s a covered garage and not an open parking lot (I avoid needing to scrape ice or remove snow, which was a plus during the extreme weather). Second, it’s a short but much-needed walk. Third, it’s well-tended and feels safe.

      Over the years, my memories of work and my life (which, let’s face it, are interchangeable) have been based upon where my workspace was located. Let me explain.

      In the early years, I worked in the windowless basement, where our small contact center was among three dark central call-taking departments. We shared space with IT and the mailroom, which still had a huge shredder the size of an industrial washing machine. My next big leap was when call processing was moved to an upper floor, and we received cubicles with orange burlap walls. The nearest window for me was yards away.

      We then moved to a secondary building, and I could push my chair away from my desk, look around the cubicle wall (which was now a neutral grey) and see a window. After that, I transferred to a different building, and the cubicle walls partially hid the windows, but I was against those walls and saw the outside world readily.

      At last, I was sent to an office in which I had a large cubicle with several windows directly behind me. I saw sunlight and approaching rain with equal joy. Then that building was shut down in 2020, and we began remote work from home.

      Now I have a large cubicle again, but the windows are steps away for those of us in the inner circle. The managers have the window offices, which is fair.

      However, the building isn’t filled with the activity of six years ago. In fact, if there are 30 people on my floor, I think we have a crowd. The last day in the building each week can almost always be mistaken for a Friday, yet there is still work from home to do. It’s an effort to reach what will be the new normal, but it’s good to have other human beings nearby again. When working at home feels like being a caretaker in a graveyard, with the other empty homes on the block silent as tombstones, it helps to know there is a journey which will end with something resembling what we used to know.

      I don’t speed to get there, but I anticipate it every time.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged fiction, life, mental-health, travel, writing
    • All You Can Enjoy

      Posted at 9:28 pm by kayewer, on April 11, 2026

      Today was a girls’ day out, and I spent an enjoyable day with two long-time friends at a huge smorgasbord and gift shop. Some of it I spent eating, a lot of it sharing conversation, and a little shrinking my paycheck funds. This is the kind of outing that is becoming rare, but we find time to spend with each other whenever possible, and this was one of the nicest Saturdays this year.

      The three of us arrived in time to have an early pre-dinner packed with everything an empty stomach could wish for. Utensils are one set per person, but plates are dutifully taken away as we went to get fresh ones and fill up with as much food as we could hold. None of us had eaten so much before, being seniors and watching our waistlines as they grow in spite of dieting.

      I started reasonably enough with seafood: salmon served at a cooking station, followed by helpings from hot trays brimming with fried shrimp, cod, crabmeat stuffed fish and plenty of sides. The next plate was piled with vegetables, including broccoli, peas, Brussels sprouts, carrots, mushrooms and mixed beans. The one thing I avoided was salad, since I ate salads all week. Plate three included chicken tenders, baked potato, crab cakes and more sides. Finally, the meal ended with plentiful desserts of key lime and apple pie, chocolate cake and specialty puddings.

      Then we shopped. The gift shop is the size of a department store emporium and populated with collectibles and local crafts. We each have a favorite artist, and we grabbed a cart to take a tour around the building and choose our bounty to take home. I looked at wind chimes and found the pricing a bit steep, so I made a few choices of my favorite collectibles, and my companions narrowed their selections down to some much-desired items. By the time we left, we had hands filled with bags (and one large box for an oversized collectible that had no bag to fit in).

      The best part of the outing was the camaraderie and conversation, which I’ve lacked for most of the past three months. Bad weather and my return to the office have upended my life this winter, but we were able to make time at last to spend together, and the April weather didn’t make it difficult. The drive was calm, the crowds reasonable, and the overall experience was pleasant.

      It’s nice for once to not have a negative thing to say, and we should find ways to bring such joy into our lives as we move from a brutal winter into a (so far) promising spring. Fill your plates with happiness, let your tummies gurgle with delight and your soul sing from the enlightenment of interactions with others.

      And it’s okay to burp.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged family, food, life, travel, writing
    • To Go Quietly

      Posted at 7:30 pm by kayewer, on March 28, 2026

      Some weeks it is more difficult to find happiness in the news than others. This past week my heart broke for a woman named Noelia Castillo Ramos, a young woman of 25 from Spain. It’s alleged she was brutalized, possibly on two or three occasions. After the last degrading incident in October 2022, in desperation she jumped from a building to bring an end to her psychological torment, only to survive with partial paralysis and chronic pain.

      A policy in the country known as the Organic Law Regulating Euthanasia is available to put an end to interminable suffering, and Noelia applied in 2024 for the right to decide her own fate. Her petition was challenged by her father and a group of Christian lawyers who argued that she did not have the mental clarity to make such a decision. Three courts overruled the father’s protests. In one of her last interviews, Noelia said the decision was personal, and she did not want to appear as a torch bearer for euthanasia as a solution for anybody else but herself under her circumstances.

      On Thursday, March 26, Noelia voluntarily received an infusion of intravenous drugs designed to bring about a painless end. Her mother and a close friend were denied entry to be with her. She chose to leave life by herself.

      Of the more than 1100 people in Spain who chose euthanasia, only two were younger than her by 2-3 years.

      It’s not just the tragedy of somebody departing this world so young and aware of what tortures this life can bring, but the fact that none of the alleged assailants were ever brought to trial. There also remain questions about quality of life when the mind is clouded by images of inhuman indulgences and the body bombarded by jolts of pain from within (or worse, rendered lifeless by the disconnect of nerves and muscle response).

      Why is it we are so used to hearing about man’s inhumanity to man, yet we balk at some people’s attempts to humanely bring an end to themselves? Who are we to determine that one or the other is more abominable? Noelia’s suffering is over, and several men who hastened her end are walking free for all we know, when they are the true criminals.

      We cannot find more happy news if we ignore and do nothing about the bad news.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged euthanasia, life
    • Melting Away Slowly

      Posted at 7:07 pm by kayewer, on February 28, 2026

      It appears we have experienced what could be called a “proper” winter this year. We had record-setting snowfall and temperature drops, sleet, ice, and the Olympics. The month of March promises to be a last hurrah for Old Man (or should we call him Elderly?) Winter, and warmer climates are promised in the coming week after a brief period of uncertainty in which we may receive more sleet and snow before all rain possibly melts away the remnants of the two big storms we had in two months.

      Unfortunately, I live on the wrong side of the block, with the sun casting shadows from behind our homes, so everybody on my side still has piles of leftover snow on the front lawns, while those on the other side are almost fully green except for a few leftover high white spots from shoveling. They’re the lucky ones. They can put winter behind them and start decorating for spring.

      My driveway is still patchy with piles of what I needed to slide off my car to go to work. For a full month, after the blizzard at the end of January, I couldn’t even open my side door because of a mound of solid ice which had drifted into a permanent statue on the steps. My gate was frozen in place, and I couldn’t even reach the bird feeders and resorted to scattering seeds atop the ice for them.

      I remember the famous blizzard of 1978, when it seemed like the last vestiges of that white stuff removal nightmare lingered into May. Parking lots in shopping centers still held corners piled high with condemned, compacted crystals blackened by car exhaust and sporting the occasional discarded paper cup.

      Sometimes it really does seem that winter won’t throw in the towel at all. Until the first crocuses bloom, or the trees sport the first buds, and it’s possible to step out the front door without a sweater, and the heating bills don’t make you faint. For those of us who are not fond of coexisting with winter, these are the rewards of patience and perseverance.

      For those of you unwilling to retire your skis to the closet for another season, may I suggest the South Pole?

      Truly, I have had enough of the season. It’s time for daffodils and tulips and lots of greenery.

      By the end of the week, I hope to have my front lawn back. If not, I will personally go out and shovel it away and into my back yard where the sun will make short work of it all. Let my neighbors look at me like I’ve gone senile. Perhaps I am nuts. Nuts for warm weather, bright colors and robins.

      Winter, begone!

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged life, nature, snow, weather, winter
    • Free Secretary

      Posted at 3:24 pm by kayewer, on February 7, 2026

      I’m old enough to remember when high schools held typing classes. The business education room consisted of row after row of desks with huge and heavy IBM Selectric (R) typewriters perched on top. They were metal and weighed between 30 and 50 pounds, which was a task suited more to the maintenance workers (no IT back then) than the young women like me to try and move around. Even sliding one on the desk was a challenge.

      The machines came in colors such as blue, black and red, with stationary keys embedded in the top and a “golf ball” style interchangeable font device which snapped in place. The design meant no sideways moving parts, which was a miracle of modern technology then. Other typewriters had a platen or cylinder which moved from right to left as the typist completed each line and required a manual shift up to the next line of type and a return to the right. The type ball/golf ball instead moved internally from left to right and positioned itself to imprint the characters on the page as the keys were pressed, striking the inked ribbon in front of the paper inside.

      Anybody from GenX or younger is probably aware that their mouths are stuck open right about now.

      Young high school women trained in basic typing skills, and we had contests for speed and accuracy. Our grade system gave an A to speeds of 60 words per minute or better. Rumor had it that a nearby high school only required 50 words per minute. By the time I was 20, I had graduated to over 90, thanks in no small part to my high school typing class, and the high bar they set.

      So why did we take typing classes? We were anticipating working in administrative roles such as secretaries or clerks, which required typing letters, meeting notes and corporate materials. IBM had cornered three quarters of the business market by the 1980s, so we were graduating with an almost guaranteed skill we could use right away.

      Of course, clerical and secretarial positions in the workplace are not what they used to be. 96 percent of administrative assistants (the modern job title) are still women, but typing has moved from navigating those toddler-weight behemoths to computers one can carry in a hand. Children in elementary school learn basic keyboarding. The role of the woman professionally dressed in a blouse and skirt clicking away is nearly gone.

      Why do I bring this up?

      I was recently tasked at work with taking customer calls to back up a growing queue during severe weather. One of the incoming call options enabled the customer to receive a callback based on their place in the queue, so they wouldn’t need to hold. In the time many people spend what they consider an annoying amount of time on hold, they might have typed 90 words per minute. Or won a round of the latest video game.

      As I was taking one of these incoming callbacks, I received a voice message asking me to identify myself for the person whom I was calling.

      The person’s phone was the secretary, without the front desk, typewriter or keyboard. The device was screening its user’s calls so they could accept or reject me. A few calls came through like that. One even acknowledged my name when relaying the message, which I found slightly creepy.

      All those years of perfecting my typing skills so I could sit at a desk and interact with people, replaced by a digital entity.

      Makes me regret never having bought an IBM typewriter.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment | Tagged Books, computers, ibm-selectric, life, technology, typing-classes, writing
    • False Start

      Posted at 3:46 pm by kayewer, on January 3, 2026

      I don’t know what happened to 2026, but it got off on the wrong foot if you ask me. In my region, we awoke to a January 1 surprise. I went to bed early since I had made no plans to celebrate (and no food in the house with which to do so), and I woke up to a coating of snow on the ground containing a mix of sleet. This meant I spent part of the morning scraping, shoveling, sweeping and chopping to clear the sidewalks and my car.

      Fortunately this chilly start to the year didn’t put a damper on the Philadelphia tradition of marching the Mummers along Broad Street, but it did affect the competitive portion for the string bands. They performed without their large props due to high winds. The committee responsible for the judging and awarding of prizes for the best of the bands are working out when and how to reschedule the event so they can receive the accolades they deserve.

      The string bands march last in the outdoor portion of the parade, and their elaborate performances are the highlight of the entire day. Leave it to Mother Nature to start the New Year with a long-winded weather event. It’s prudent to postpone; however, the leader of each band carries a large backpiece which, if picked up by a heavy wind, could blow him to Pittsburgh, and they still marched wearing them. The other performers, who sport smaller backings, could be bowled over by high gusts, so safety first makes sense for the staged episodes (they bring everything with them to perform at designated spots throughout the parade route). There were no reports of flying Mummer sightings.

      On Friday I had to work, so I promptly signed in and began doing reports for the end of the month and year, followed by customer feedback. We have an online form which asks for the basics, but of the dozens of incoming notices I received, practically none of them were filled out properly. I blame the lingering effects of reveling on Wednesday evening, but also wonder if people are just unable to perform such simple tasks anymore.

      When I went out to run errands today, you wouldn’t even know there had been December holidays. I stopped by a mall for a few essentials and found that Christmas had been dismantled, and much of the winter gear was on clearance with swimwear on the racks. I decided not to buy clearance sweaters, since I already have a decent supply, as well as enough to get me through spring and summer.

      The local patisserie was quiet, and I didn’t need to wait in line. However, they ran out of tongs for the usual “grab and go” ritual. I skipped going to the supermarket as this is the first weekend of the month and the benefit check cart brigades fill every store all weekend long. If you’ve never caught the spectacle, it’s a comedy of confusion as a car filled with shoppers descend and grab carts to fill to overflowing with a month’s worth of food at once. It’s not as if the stores close down, but more that the money needs to be put in the proper place right away so the family can at least eat for 31 days. Thank goodness for February and a shorter month to stretch that benefit a bit more.

      My last stops were the bird food store and my favorite bath needs place for supplies. The birds get yummy seeds, and I get cleansers and moisturizers. Luckily I still have funds left, as it was my payday as well yesterday.

      The overall impression was that we’re all exhausted from December, and returning to what we call normal on Monday won’t be easy or pleasant. But we now have 356 days before the next Christmas madness, which will fall on a Friday, as will the New Year 2027. The best we can do is soldier on and look forward to other milestones such as the start of Daylight Saving on March 8, the end of winter on March 20 (spring equinox), and Memorial Day, which is 142 days away on May 25.

      Are you blown away?

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments | Tagged life, music
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