I lie here dying for ice water. If Mom called me for ice water, I'd spring up in a flash and voila! Tinkling sparkly agua. If my son called me for ice water, I'd pack up a thermos, emptying all my trays and drive up to his home here at three fifteen a.m. I thirst, and I blog about it, rather than walking (or rolling) into the kitchen. What is up with that? Indeed something to ponder.... Over of course, a magnificent goblet of ice water... With a juicy wedge of lemon..... Self care. Coming to my senses... Wait for it...
Ugh... This table. That's probably why I avoided the kitchen.)
Now... A little visual magic... Time for sleep... With my "now 'n later" glasses of water.