My grandpa leans towards the kitchen TV, his socks hiked up to his knees, and his eyes follow the tennis balls as they smack back and forth across the court. I twirl around him, raising my arms above my head, preparing to mount the balance beam, which is really just the line separating the blue part of the floor from the cream part of the floor. Take off your shoes, maybe.

Retape dans le champ ci-dessous la suite de chiffres et de lettres qui apparaissent dans le cadre ci-contre.

Abonne-toi à mon blog! On prend les mêmes et on recommence.

From a hole in the ground. 8230; A happy anonymous depressive. So, there should be a standard disclaimer here that I have no expertise in mental health or training for counseling, do not promote any particular approach, and do not wish to belittle the experiences of those who struggle daily with mental illness of any kind.