I wrote you this a week or so ago. It didnt feel long enough to send, but you always send them all, so I will too.
Thanks for giving me your house today. I made myself right at home, just as I always do, but I think I took it to a new level this time. This time I figured out how to use the coffee maker.
The coconut oil was just as decadent as you promised
It is now well into the afternoon and I am still in my nighty, watching my fith episode of Mad Men, taking hoola hoop breaks intermittently of course.
It's hard to take selfies and work the hoop
I love it here, Anna. It is my happy place. I drew this picture for you, you will find it under the goose on your porch. It’s us on the road somewhere in Arizona.
It was supposed to be kind of like this
We were driving home so I made the horizon yellow, just like your house.
That’s all I wrote last week when I borrowed your house. Thanks for letting me and my girl stay there last night when we felt sad. You are the truest friend I could wish for.
I love you more than I love sleeping away the sadness.
Bridget
Letters Without Stamps 