Dear Mom,
A conversation:
Me: I need to post to the blog, but I don't know what to say. Nothing happened today [that she doesn't know about].
Ron: Talk about how sexy I am.
Me: What should I say?
Ron: What shouldn't you say? Spill it.

There you go. I am going to ignore the undertones of weirdness of my husband wanting my mom to know he's sexy.
Love,
Ruth

Dear Mom,
I'm back, I promise. The late-winter blahs took their hold and I couldn't get rid of them.
Last week the snow was slowly melting, and in the back yard all these orbs appeared.




Love,
Ruth

Dear Mom,




Love,
Ruth