Mistress of my Heart,
Today Annie and I cleaned up the garden, with the fall months moving in, we thought it was best to transition some of the summertime crops over to autumnal fare. We put pumpkins, and squash in the ground today, and tomorrow we'll do sprouts. Maybe, our toddler is want to play in the dirt at all hours.
Turned away at the door, of course, Im tempted to throw stones at your father's windows until I see your face. Much like a bad romance novel, even if we know neither of us is overly fond of them, but, I could be, now that I've had time to think on it a little. I will write and try to visit again tomorrow, unless you tell me otherwise.
Write to me, dearest, I miss your voice, even if I must try and conjure it in my mind, and read it off paper.
In sickness and in Health, I swore,
Czora
