On winter nights, when it’s just cold enough to snow, but not cold enough to freeze, this is how Bowie tends to relax. Just him, a beer, and a hot tub. If he happens to invite friends over to share the tub, time is spent telling dirty jokes, singing Christmas carols, and talking about adventures of years past.
Merry Christmas to you and yours. Thank you for reading Swiftriver this past year. Here’s to many more together.
Every night I see this wonderful pic of Bowie! I start fantasizing about him…in the hot tub… and me… in the hot tub… then Rose somehow happily doggie-belly flops into the hot tub much to both of our chagrins! 🙂
That is probably the dirtiest comment I’ve gotten to date. I love it!