A few days ago, I checked my email first thing in the morning to find missive from my dad, sent at 3:30am. Apparently, rambling emails to one's daughter are a new insomnia cure-all. The last paragraph amused me mightily:
The Pfost's Grandson, Matthew, is marrying next month and much of the energy is directed along those lines. It will be take place in a winery in Temecula. Not even a Catholic winery!
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