“Wind-blown and rosy, my little March girl”

March is when the year finds its rhythm and the days are warm and still, and new and old joys present themselves like simple gifts.

Claire and I ventured into the West Beach Surf Club one Sunday and a man (not Ziggy) played guitar
Old Mucker Trev took me for a spin to Strathalbyn in his 1971 Alfa Romeo
I saw this in our 99 year-old neighbour’s home, and then one accidentally fell…
One Saturday evening Claire and I hung out with Christie (she’s really hot)
Max turned eleven and had a party at the Beachouse and all played well
Visiting Steingarten Lookout in the southern Barossa we found these two glasses of wine!

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