How much I love cotton socks. Those found only in village shops or that they were your grandparents gift. Socks clean, simple, without lycra and other additives to form and texture.

I’m great fun to watch clouds. Make them by hand and mind pets and stories and all you need to have a glorious day. When clouds to match the smell of freshly cut grass, fainting. Who knows how it sit there, hanging in the callousness of a perfect day.

What I like to say someone mmm after licking a fork with food made ​​by my hand. I feel like petting him on the head and cuddle him and and and. If there is cotton socks and clean, ready soup. But what good is always someone to cook for me, is best. Where’s my kitchen.

What delights me to take a friend and he has some words to play with all this to get dizzy. Carousel of words to do together, that I want. May I ask, give it. From our mouth speaks out of our eyes out and some small tears from laughing so much.

What I like to splash my feet in a good water placed outside on a neck or a side hill. What I like to splash around until wrinkled and asks me to draw them out.

What fascinates me made ​​the evening fire on a mountain. The fire made ​​the evening a large bank. The fire made ​​with friends and family and strangers that fascinates me. Can I look in a century he can watch. What boredom. Fire is the best non-urban event.

What I like that much. What.