Greetings from Jupiter

 

Carol Jean, my lovely mom, not ready to be a poster girl

The cats and the husband don’t remember my name, my sweet flower garden of June has been transformed into an Amazonian drag queen, the bills are scattered like autumn leaves, composting under piles of moving boxes; but Carol Jean is high on dopamine, so all is well for the next three and a quarter hours until the sinemet fails us again…

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