Fall, then.
We finished out the last bash of biking, gave ourselves one last hurrah of mountain mayhem. Martin saved a post-it note for himself, Sharpied on a smiley face and left it under my mouse. Spent the rest of this evening enjoying it along with Skip on a leash, the smiley dogs tail thumping and thrashing close behind.
Dinner at Sawadee? he asks.
I texted to say yes, had felt the right answer was yes.
This morning, leftovers from dinner in a box.
