Some people officially live across the street, but they also feel like they’re one of your own. They pop in when they want. They sometimes are in their pj’s. Sometimes with big grins. Sometimes with frowns and tears. Sometimes they just plop down on your couch and start texting. They are always welcome to just open up the front door and not even knock…
Well, I’m missing one of those someones. She’s busy, and we don’t see her much, except when she’s driving away in that new/old Volvo she just bought. So I baked her an apple cake.
Love you, Morgan! Miss you…
The Woman and the Wheat 