It snowed during the night.
The boys (self) managed to separate themselves from technological gadgets and hit the snow.
They rolled downhill, made snow angels, cried because of the cold, spat snow at each other and had snowball fights with the husband.
We're driving to Bouillon in a little while.
My dad loved Bouillon.
It is beautiful here, and quiet enough so one gets the opportunity to think again.
And daydream.
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