The mister has been growing out his beard for some reason. Not sure if this picture really does it justice, especially since this was taken over a full week ago now. The beard is long and scraggly and strange looking, straggly perhaps. The beard is about four different colors, just random blocks of grey, brown, orange. The funny thing is, he doesn't know why he is doing it either, just that he must not give up, he must keep going no matter how much he or anyone else is starting to hate it. And that's that, my friends. If there was ever a reason to become a loyal reader of this blog, this is it. What will happen next in this harrowing tale from around the drum circle?
Edit Note: Since E has approval of all blog posts featuring him (yes, approval. Who says I'm not a great wife?), he has asked me to better explain the real "meaning" behind the beard. It is a winter beard, grown in protest of the harsh winter. So I guess he does know why he's doing it. after. all. One more reason to hope for Spring!
xo,
C
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