And a show . . .
(No, John, I'm telling you: Mycroft would never tread the boards, even under heavy makeup.)
We ended our stay in London with a Tarot reading. For her, mind, not us, though she dragged us along anyway.
|This is me rolling my eyes while we wait.|
And the next day we flew back for one night in Boston . . . Where there was pie.
(Fine, John, it was chocolate mousse cake. As if I ever cared about food.)
And then, back to:
|The city we now call home.|
And so today we are . . .
(I only let her wear the "Genius" shirt because it's too big for me.)