mr. october, you’ve been quite the kick in the teeth. they say slings and arrows come in groups of threes, but monday mailed in a fourth heartbreak with another death of a young friend. i am soothing my sadness with “thank you’s” for the time...
big, fat juicy summer cherries. berry stained lips. my sweet-sounding bangles. new art for the home. check this girl out. homemade bouquets from the garden. and i’m LOVING this book. this guy nails tee-rash like nuttin’ i ever read. what are you currently...
i see london, i see france, i see moonbeams disco dance. some hear sea and waves. but for me, my friends, the seashells, spin tales and sagas on par with atwood and irving. on any day a magazine moose becomes my afternoon confident. how is he the only one so far who...
after a dry spell i’m finally back in lust with the written word. silly me for straying from those who have proved so loyal to me time and again. my heart thumps a bit heavier as the pages i’ve read rival the number of pages i have left to read. what next?...
i’m sure there was some sort of mistake. i’m so not worthy of such an award, but, in what i suspect was copious amount of black tar heroin consumption, the divine deborah of dumbwit tellher bestowed the very generous kreativ blogger badge upon moi. to say...
my hopskotch across the northeast entailed a 7 hour stay in an albany marriott. with my kindle out of battery, and informercials as my only television option, i was desperate for other reading material: hmmmm? the bible, the book of mormon, and the spirit to serve...
