December 25, 2019
Merry Christmas!
I wanted to share with you just a few of my favorite memories of past Christmases. The first, of course, was, getting that stocking that Santa had filled, with the giant orange in the toe! That was something I always looked forward to each year.
Going to midnight Eucharist (Anglican/Episcopal) with my parents, and then with just my mom after my father passed. Our church was old and had a lot of wonderful dark wood inside it. It smelled of a century’s worth of incense and wax. In later times, when I would go there, I could always feel my parents close by.
My earliest memories of Christmas morning, after the stockings had been had, was a cooked breakfast of bacon and sausage and eggs, toast and orange juice and grape juice (Welches’ from concentrate)! There was real butter for the toast, and it was one of the few times a year we would all sit down and have breakfast together as a family. Mom was a nurse, and worked shifts, and Dad worked full time, so breakfast together was not always a given.
Then, after breakfast, my Daddy would put the television on, on Christmas morning, so that we could watch the Christmas Message from Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, who is the Queen of England but also the Queen of Canada.
I continued that tradition—both the breakfast and the Queen’s message—with my kids. And then when they grew and went their own way, we were invited to my older brother’s house on Boxing Day (the day after Christmas) for his Boxing Day brunch. We didn’t think we’d be doing that this year, as he suffered a stroke this past summer. He’s on the mend, talking and walking and still with that sharp wit of his—but without the stamina he’d had until then. He’d said he wasn’t going to have the brunch this year—but his grown boys have stepped in and announced that their mom and dad could relax and enjoy it this time, as they would do the cooking.
As parents, David and I, going out into the bush behind our house when we lived out in the sticks for our Christmas tree is a fond memory. There was a vast acreage that the owner, David’s boss at the time, told us to feel free to pick whatever tree we wanted. We had our oldest, just a baby that first time, bundled in a sled. More often than not, over the years, David would climb up and take a treetop, leaving the tree below to continue to grow.
The assembling and wrapping of the Santa gifts, complete with special Santa paper….and often not getting more than a couple of hours sleep before being awakened by excited children. They had to wait until the coffee was made and we were sitting in the living room, cups in hand. You see, that was the only way we could ensure we were awake enough to enjoy their joy. That, to us, was everything. And it still is.
Another fond memory was watching those same somewhat sappy Christmas specials on TV with our children that they are now watching with their grandkids! Yes, folks, Rudolph, Frosty, and Charlie Brown are that old.
There were times I hosted Christmas dinner, and especially the one time for 15 of us where I prepared everything, and my middle child, my Anthony, turned to me and said, “we should eat like this every day!”
There are memories that make me smile, and some that make me teary. Traditions, that I learned as a child and now see upheld by my children, and now by my grandchildren who are parents.
I hope you’re enjoying the day doing what you love with those you love. For those of you who are grieving, I hope good memories of Christmases past comfort you, and I hope the sound of children playing and laughing give you hope for the future.
In the words of Charles Dickens via Tiny Tim, may God bless us, everyone.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
Wednesday, December 25, 2019
Wednesday, December 18, 2019
December 18, 2019
Back in the spring, in anticipation of our daughter and her chihuahuas moving in with us, my husband did me a great kindness. He installed two doors, one in each of the doorways of my office. The rule was made, that if the doors were closed, then a knock needed to be used before entering.
We knew that the dogs would have free rein of the house. We also knew and have since had confirmed through experience that the little beggars are all emotionally needy. They want to be held and petted a lot. David’s concern was that I had the freedom to be alone in my office so I could better focus on writing.
So far, I’ve only needed to close my doors a couple of times for respite from needy dogs; for the most part, when their mommy is at work in the morning, they are in the living room, on one recliner or the other, sleeping under blankets. Some days, we almost forget they’re here.
But after last week and the several days of very cold weather we had, I am glad to claim another great benefit of having doors that close in my office: warmth.
I have an electric fireplace in this office of mine. It is complete with both a light that truly simulates the appearance of flames, and a heater. And with both of my office doors closed and that heater on? Mamma, my office gets warm!
This room which houses my office has always been one of the coldest in the house, because two of its walls are outside walls, and there is no insulation in them. There was a day last week that the temperature outside was in the low single digits. The cold literally pulsed off the wall in front of me. I was very grateful to be able to close the doors and turn on that fireplace. Grateful, and toasty.
I know it’s early—a whole week to the day before Christmas—but I think it’s possible that I’m as ready for the day—the season—as I possibly could be. I still have to purchase my special “Christmas” groceries, and this I will do on Friday.
For example, I’ll need to get some sweet potatoes, and I have to buy a bone-in-ham, because David wanted a goose for Christmas dinner, and he and I are the only ones who like goose. There is also one other thing I have to get that is an absolute must.
About four years ago I stumbled upon a recipe for a “warm crab dip”. I love shellfish. Lobster, crab, shrimp, scallops. Yum, yum. Today, shrimp is actually a lot less expensive than it was, say, twenty-five years ago. But crab is still costly, if you want the real thing, and I do, for the warm crab dip. Now, that wasn’t a necessity for the first couple of years. I would make that dip if I could, but because David didn’t like it, it wasn’t a priority. If it’s something that only I like, I don’t have a problem telling myself no. Then, two years ago, my second daughter dropped in when I was about to indulge. She saw the dish and asked what it was. Of course, I told her and offered her some crackers to try it out. After that first taste, she dug right in with me and it was a Zen moment for us both.
Since that time, on a regular basis, she asks me if I’m going to make that crab dip. Which I happily do each Christmas season, and I pay for the ingredients with my grocery store points.
So, other than purchasing some groceries, we’re ready for Christmas. I even went to a mall the day before yesterday! I did, and of course I used my scooter. I haven’t been to a mall for a very long time. I won’t count the day we went to try out the Casper beds early in November, because that was in, to the store, test mattress, buy bed, and leave. Not just leave the store but leave the mall, too. There was no real need for us to do that as we both had our scooters with us and hey, retired people here. Nothing but time on our hands!
But my husband doesn’t like malls. I like malls, so this past Monday I took my daughter with me. She puts my scooter together for me quite easily. (Me, not so much. I’ve tried. I need to practice doing that, but it seems heavier some days.) We went to a large mall in Hamilton, because among other things we needed to get, they have a Cinnabon store there. I enjoyed that trip a great deal, looking at all the sparkly and the shiny. The only negative thing was that it was very, very people-y!
So, let’s see, gifts for great-grandbabies, check. Money to stuff in cards, check. Grocery list made, check.
Christmas tree up and decorated? Sadly, no. This year, once more, we won’t be putting up our Christmas tree. The renovations are still underway; two-thirds of the living room has been painted, and more than half the floor is done. This week, and next, the work will continue. There won’t be any little ones here to ooh and ahh over our four-foot eleven tree and its miniature ornaments anyway.
My husband and I have an agreement. I told him I wouldn’t complain about no tree this year, so as not to interfere with his renovation work. As long as he understood that he could not use this year of “no Christmas tree” to promote the same policy in the years to come. I’ve kept my side of the bargain and I am certain that he will keep his.
David and I wish all of you a wonder-filled Christmas flush with family and friends, laughter and love!
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
Back in the spring, in anticipation of our daughter and her chihuahuas moving in with us, my husband did me a great kindness. He installed two doors, one in each of the doorways of my office. The rule was made, that if the doors were closed, then a knock needed to be used before entering.
We knew that the dogs would have free rein of the house. We also knew and have since had confirmed through experience that the little beggars are all emotionally needy. They want to be held and petted a lot. David’s concern was that I had the freedom to be alone in my office so I could better focus on writing.
So far, I’ve only needed to close my doors a couple of times for respite from needy dogs; for the most part, when their mommy is at work in the morning, they are in the living room, on one recliner or the other, sleeping under blankets. Some days, we almost forget they’re here.
But after last week and the several days of very cold weather we had, I am glad to claim another great benefit of having doors that close in my office: warmth.
I have an electric fireplace in this office of mine. It is complete with both a light that truly simulates the appearance of flames, and a heater. And with both of my office doors closed and that heater on? Mamma, my office gets warm!
This room which houses my office has always been one of the coldest in the house, because two of its walls are outside walls, and there is no insulation in them. There was a day last week that the temperature outside was in the low single digits. The cold literally pulsed off the wall in front of me. I was very grateful to be able to close the doors and turn on that fireplace. Grateful, and toasty.
I know it’s early—a whole week to the day before Christmas—but I think it’s possible that I’m as ready for the day—the season—as I possibly could be. I still have to purchase my special “Christmas” groceries, and this I will do on Friday.
For example, I’ll need to get some sweet potatoes, and I have to buy a bone-in-ham, because David wanted a goose for Christmas dinner, and he and I are the only ones who like goose. There is also one other thing I have to get that is an absolute must.
About four years ago I stumbled upon a recipe for a “warm crab dip”. I love shellfish. Lobster, crab, shrimp, scallops. Yum, yum. Today, shrimp is actually a lot less expensive than it was, say, twenty-five years ago. But crab is still costly, if you want the real thing, and I do, for the warm crab dip. Now, that wasn’t a necessity for the first couple of years. I would make that dip if I could, but because David didn’t like it, it wasn’t a priority. If it’s something that only I like, I don’t have a problem telling myself no. Then, two years ago, my second daughter dropped in when I was about to indulge. She saw the dish and asked what it was. Of course, I told her and offered her some crackers to try it out. After that first taste, she dug right in with me and it was a Zen moment for us both.
Since that time, on a regular basis, she asks me if I’m going to make that crab dip. Which I happily do each Christmas season, and I pay for the ingredients with my grocery store points.
So, other than purchasing some groceries, we’re ready for Christmas. I even went to a mall the day before yesterday! I did, and of course I used my scooter. I haven’t been to a mall for a very long time. I won’t count the day we went to try out the Casper beds early in November, because that was in, to the store, test mattress, buy bed, and leave. Not just leave the store but leave the mall, too. There was no real need for us to do that as we both had our scooters with us and hey, retired people here. Nothing but time on our hands!
But my husband doesn’t like malls. I like malls, so this past Monday I took my daughter with me. She puts my scooter together for me quite easily. (Me, not so much. I’ve tried. I need to practice doing that, but it seems heavier some days.) We went to a large mall in Hamilton, because among other things we needed to get, they have a Cinnabon store there. I enjoyed that trip a great deal, looking at all the sparkly and the shiny. The only negative thing was that it was very, very people-y!
So, let’s see, gifts for great-grandbabies, check. Money to stuff in cards, check. Grocery list made, check.
Christmas tree up and decorated? Sadly, no. This year, once more, we won’t be putting up our Christmas tree. The renovations are still underway; two-thirds of the living room has been painted, and more than half the floor is done. This week, and next, the work will continue. There won’t be any little ones here to ooh and ahh over our four-foot eleven tree and its miniature ornaments anyway.
My husband and I have an agreement. I told him I wouldn’t complain about no tree this year, so as not to interfere with his renovation work. As long as he understood that he could not use this year of “no Christmas tree” to promote the same policy in the years to come. I’ve kept my side of the bargain and I am certain that he will keep his.
David and I wish all of you a wonder-filled Christmas flush with family and friends, laughter and love!
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
December 11, 2019
It doesn’t seem like 47 years since we welcomed our first child into the world! I know it’s a cliché but that was a day I will never forget. I got to experience an especially long labor—more than twenty hours, and that was after the actual labor pains began. He was born on a Monday. On the Saturday evening prior, which was the 9th, we’d gone to a Christmas party held by my husband’s employer of the day.
Shortly after we returned home to our apartment after the party, my water broke. Very early Sunday morning we went to the hospital, and because my water had broken, they kept me in. It was a long haul for all three of us. I recall that when they were wheeling me into the delivery room, I looked at David and said, in all sincerity, “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go home.”
Of course, all the pain and worry became as nothing once I held my baby in my arms. I was just 18 years old, and I got serious attitude from some of the nursing staff. That didn’t matter, either. We had our baby, and that was all that counted.
We were in the hospital for a few days, because Christopher needed to have a blood transfusion, as a result of his jaundice. We left the hospital on Christmas Eve—like I said, a long haul.
In these modern times, when it comes to labor and delivery, things are done completely differently than what I knew. I have no opinion on whether that’s better or worse. In my mind, it’s only different.
I do find it interesting that my oldest will be 50 in just three years. Although, to be honest, I already answer, when asked, that I don’t actually have any children—I do, however have two grandparents.
As you can imagine, I spend a lot of time looking at the social media postings of family, and that includes my daughter-in-law (our son doesn’t do social media). Both she and my son adore their first grandson, and from the pictures and videos I get to see, the love affair is mutual. I didn’t have to explain to them that grandparents and grandchildren are natural allies against a common foe. That was something they’d figured out on their own.
The “quick job” of updating our living room is proving to be not quite so quick as previously advertised. But this task has brought about a surprising change. For more than twenty years, we’ve had a very large indoor yucca. Large as in 8-plus-feet tall. One year, we didn’t have a Christmas tree, so I put some garland on the Yucca and called it done. This plant was a gift to us from our second daughter and when we first got it—in a two inch pot—it sat on top of our old television (not a cabinet model, but the kind common after those, a large bulky set that sits on a table kind of model. The top of the TV was flat, several inches wide and made a nice shelf and that is where the yucca sat.
At some point or other David adopted that plant as his own and began to feed it Miracle Grow. It went from a two-inch pot to a ten and then a fifteen. We got a new Television with no top shelf and had to put the yucca on a small table. Then a larger table. And then, finally, in a pot on the floor. The final current pot it inhabited is 24 inches in diameter and 20 inches tall. The plant was by this point a tree, one with two main trunks. And up until yesterday, it was David’s pride and joy.
Yesterday, he cut the two trunks, and each of the girls is going to take one “shoot” (I don’t know what you can actually call the pieces; they’re about 5 feet tall each) and plant it—he says they will eventually grow roots if they’re kept in soil and kept moist. We’ll see.
Our living room is strangely bare without that tree. David had decided that he wanted a completely new look after so many years. “That tree has dominated the room for a very long time. I just decided it was time for a change.”
It is, indeed. We need to buy curtains for the window that tree sat in front of, now. And since there will be new flooring and new paint…. there should be new furniture, too. Don’t you think?
I can hardly wait to see what we eventually come up with.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
It doesn’t seem like 47 years since we welcomed our first child into the world! I know it’s a cliché but that was a day I will never forget. I got to experience an especially long labor—more than twenty hours, and that was after the actual labor pains began. He was born on a Monday. On the Saturday evening prior, which was the 9th, we’d gone to a Christmas party held by my husband’s employer of the day.
Shortly after we returned home to our apartment after the party, my water broke. Very early Sunday morning we went to the hospital, and because my water had broken, they kept me in. It was a long haul for all three of us. I recall that when they were wheeling me into the delivery room, I looked at David and said, in all sincerity, “I’ve changed my mind. Let’s go home.”
Of course, all the pain and worry became as nothing once I held my baby in my arms. I was just 18 years old, and I got serious attitude from some of the nursing staff. That didn’t matter, either. We had our baby, and that was all that counted.
We were in the hospital for a few days, because Christopher needed to have a blood transfusion, as a result of his jaundice. We left the hospital on Christmas Eve—like I said, a long haul.
In these modern times, when it comes to labor and delivery, things are done completely differently than what I knew. I have no opinion on whether that’s better or worse. In my mind, it’s only different.
I do find it interesting that my oldest will be 50 in just three years. Although, to be honest, I already answer, when asked, that I don’t actually have any children—I do, however have two grandparents.
As you can imagine, I spend a lot of time looking at the social media postings of family, and that includes my daughter-in-law (our son doesn’t do social media). Both she and my son adore their first grandson, and from the pictures and videos I get to see, the love affair is mutual. I didn’t have to explain to them that grandparents and grandchildren are natural allies against a common foe. That was something they’d figured out on their own.
The “quick job” of updating our living room is proving to be not quite so quick as previously advertised. But this task has brought about a surprising change. For more than twenty years, we’ve had a very large indoor yucca. Large as in 8-plus-feet tall. One year, we didn’t have a Christmas tree, so I put some garland on the Yucca and called it done. This plant was a gift to us from our second daughter and when we first got it—in a two inch pot—it sat on top of our old television (not a cabinet model, but the kind common after those, a large bulky set that sits on a table kind of model. The top of the TV was flat, several inches wide and made a nice shelf and that is where the yucca sat.
At some point or other David adopted that plant as his own and began to feed it Miracle Grow. It went from a two-inch pot to a ten and then a fifteen. We got a new Television with no top shelf and had to put the yucca on a small table. Then a larger table. And then, finally, in a pot on the floor. The final current pot it inhabited is 24 inches in diameter and 20 inches tall. The plant was by this point a tree, one with two main trunks. And up until yesterday, it was David’s pride and joy.
Yesterday, he cut the two trunks, and each of the girls is going to take one “shoot” (I don’t know what you can actually call the pieces; they’re about 5 feet tall each) and plant it—he says they will eventually grow roots if they’re kept in soil and kept moist. We’ll see.
Our living room is strangely bare without that tree. David had decided that he wanted a completely new look after so many years. “That tree has dominated the room for a very long time. I just decided it was time for a change.”
It is, indeed. We need to buy curtains for the window that tree sat in front of, now. And since there will be new flooring and new paint…. there should be new furniture, too. Don’t you think?
I can hardly wait to see what we eventually come up with.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
Wednesday, December 4, 2019
December 4, 2019
December began with our first ice storm in a while, our first real blast of winter. I’d been planning to head to the next city to our northwest, to spend some time with my son and daughter-in-law. We were going to go to Bingo, which I haven’t done in a long time. But I canceled the night before, because I’d checked the weather and it didn’t look good.
When I arose, the freezing rain hadn’t started. But it did a half hour later, and it sure didn’t take long to cover everything. After the thick coating of ice, of course, came snow. Not a lot, but enough. I was disappointed to have missed the opportunity to visit, but there’s always next Sunday – good Lord willing and the river don’t rise.
So now that December is officially here, Mr. Ashbury has decided to begin working on our living room. As of today, he’s finished the mudding of cracks and has finally fixed one good-sized hole. It was situated about three inches from the ceiling on our south facing living room wall. We’ve had that hole since we had the siding put on the house back in 2006. Yes, that was many years ago.
What happened was that as the siding installers were strapping and then siding this very old frame house, they tapped some nails just right, and bang! We discovered there had been a stove pipe hole we never knew about that had been covered over, but not covered very well. I say not well, because the plaster fell out and there was the hole, piece of stove pipe still there and all.
Mr. Ashbury believes in out of sight, out of mind. He hung a picture over the damage (which was visible above our bookcases) and called it good, as he has sometimes been known to do. Yes, he is a bit of a redneck and he’s proud of it. His red neck shines most when he “jerry-rigs” repairs. Like the time, shortly after we moved into this house when the shower rod that had been held in place by one screw on the one side lost that screw. There were two in the other, it was just the one side that needed a screw. My oldest son caught the rod and held it in place. Until his dad came, with a plastic ball point pen in hand—which he then proceeded to jam into that hole where a screw was meant to go. It was a mighty “jam” because that pen stayed there until he replaced that shower curtain rod, oh, about five years ago.
But I digress.
We had tried buying one of those stove pipe covers, but the one we got, and thought would fit over that hole, didn’t. David ended up enlarging the hole slightly to make it square, then inserting two pieces of 1x 2 into the hole and screwing it through the lathing. He was then able to cut a piece of drywall to fit, and of course, then used the “mudding” compound. Fingers crossed it all turns out—but however it looks it will be better than having to be stared at constantly by a gaping maw.
The three walls he’s going to be working on are all plaster and in fairly decent shape. So there was no need to buy full sheets of drywall to cover them over. He’ll be painting this week, and that will give us a half of the room done.
Why a half, you ask? Well, he moved the television out about four feet from the wall he’s working on, and has it covered in plastic while he’s working. The bookshelf units (all 3) are also out of place, giving him access to half of the adjacent wall. Once the painting is done, he and our daughter will work together to install laminate flooring for that four to five feet of floor that is free of furniture—and then he’ll move things back into place, over the new flooring, and do the rest of the adjacent wall, and corresponding flooring. Then, one more move of furniture toward the television…well, you get the picture.
I did not remind him that is it three weeks before Christmas.
Fortunately, we don’t as a rule do much entertaining. Our Christmas tree is a small one—barely up to my height—so we don’t need a lot of room to show our Christmas spirit. I haven’t complained one bit, either, about his decision to begin this process now.
Why? Well, there was a point in October when he seriously discussed putting off getting our new bed until the spring so that he could do the living room and then get to work on the bedroom which among other things, needs a new ceiling (it lost a part of itself back when that rain hit during the time the roof was off). But he finally saw the sweet light of reason, and we have our new, wonderfully comfortable bed.
And as I’ve often said: if I can just get a good night’s sleep, I can handle damn near anything.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
December began with our first ice storm in a while, our first real blast of winter. I’d been planning to head to the next city to our northwest, to spend some time with my son and daughter-in-law. We were going to go to Bingo, which I haven’t done in a long time. But I canceled the night before, because I’d checked the weather and it didn’t look good.
When I arose, the freezing rain hadn’t started. But it did a half hour later, and it sure didn’t take long to cover everything. After the thick coating of ice, of course, came snow. Not a lot, but enough. I was disappointed to have missed the opportunity to visit, but there’s always next Sunday – good Lord willing and the river don’t rise.
So now that December is officially here, Mr. Ashbury has decided to begin working on our living room. As of today, he’s finished the mudding of cracks and has finally fixed one good-sized hole. It was situated about three inches from the ceiling on our south facing living room wall. We’ve had that hole since we had the siding put on the house back in 2006. Yes, that was many years ago.
What happened was that as the siding installers were strapping and then siding this very old frame house, they tapped some nails just right, and bang! We discovered there had been a stove pipe hole we never knew about that had been covered over, but not covered very well. I say not well, because the plaster fell out and there was the hole, piece of stove pipe still there and all.
Mr. Ashbury believes in out of sight, out of mind. He hung a picture over the damage (which was visible above our bookcases) and called it good, as he has sometimes been known to do. Yes, he is a bit of a redneck and he’s proud of it. His red neck shines most when he “jerry-rigs” repairs. Like the time, shortly after we moved into this house when the shower rod that had been held in place by one screw on the one side lost that screw. There were two in the other, it was just the one side that needed a screw. My oldest son caught the rod and held it in place. Until his dad came, with a plastic ball point pen in hand—which he then proceeded to jam into that hole where a screw was meant to go. It was a mighty “jam” because that pen stayed there until he replaced that shower curtain rod, oh, about five years ago.
But I digress.
We had tried buying one of those stove pipe covers, but the one we got, and thought would fit over that hole, didn’t. David ended up enlarging the hole slightly to make it square, then inserting two pieces of 1x 2 into the hole and screwing it through the lathing. He was then able to cut a piece of drywall to fit, and of course, then used the “mudding” compound. Fingers crossed it all turns out—but however it looks it will be better than having to be stared at constantly by a gaping maw.
The three walls he’s going to be working on are all plaster and in fairly decent shape. So there was no need to buy full sheets of drywall to cover them over. He’ll be painting this week, and that will give us a half of the room done.
Why a half, you ask? Well, he moved the television out about four feet from the wall he’s working on, and has it covered in plastic while he’s working. The bookshelf units (all 3) are also out of place, giving him access to half of the adjacent wall. Once the painting is done, he and our daughter will work together to install laminate flooring for that four to five feet of floor that is free of furniture—and then he’ll move things back into place, over the new flooring, and do the rest of the adjacent wall, and corresponding flooring. Then, one more move of furniture toward the television…well, you get the picture.
I did not remind him that is it three weeks before Christmas.
Fortunately, we don’t as a rule do much entertaining. Our Christmas tree is a small one—barely up to my height—so we don’t need a lot of room to show our Christmas spirit. I haven’t complained one bit, either, about his decision to begin this process now.
Why? Well, there was a point in October when he seriously discussed putting off getting our new bed until the spring so that he could do the living room and then get to work on the bedroom which among other things, needs a new ceiling (it lost a part of itself back when that rain hit during the time the roof was off). But he finally saw the sweet light of reason, and we have our new, wonderfully comfortable bed.
And as I’ve often said: if I can just get a good night’s sleep, I can handle damn near anything.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.morganashbury.com
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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