E-mail: Dear Josh... (link drop)
Dear Josh,
I hope you're enjoying Detroit, and that the political mavens are not running you ragged too much. I know I promised I would write sooner, but events here in Fandom have been a combination of the mundane but interesting (new patients and old) and... indescribable.
My brother Peter is registered here this summer, as a student. My *older* brother Peter. Who is now sixteen, while I am still thirty-five. It's been an adjustment, although I must admit that teasing his new girlfriend Willow about him, and he about Willow is one of the more unexpected amusements of this summer.
There was also an excursion out to the Preserve-- which I shall not tell you about, except to say that you will have to join us, next time. I will see you dance with something *approaching* skill before I die, and that place is the best way to accomplish it.
Lorelai is nearly ready to give birth to her son, and they've already named the baby: William Starbucks Danes. Much as I like Lorelai, I'm very glad no one has ever asked me my professional opinion about her.
Peter is off on a trip, and I'm not sure when he'll return, and your country's birthday is suspending much of next week, so I have too much time on my hands. Write back when you have time. Or call when you don't; talking to you when you're frazzled is always entertaining.
As always,
Susan
I hope you're enjoying Detroit, and that the political mavens are not running you ragged too much. I know I promised I would write sooner, but events here in Fandom have been a combination of the mundane but interesting (new patients and old) and... indescribable.
My brother Peter is registered here this summer, as a student. My *older* brother Peter. Who is now sixteen, while I am still thirty-five. It's been an adjustment, although I must admit that teasing his new girlfriend Willow about him, and he about Willow is one of the more unexpected amusements of this summer.
There was also an excursion out to the Preserve-- which I shall not tell you about, except to say that you will have to join us, next time. I will see you dance with something *approaching* skill before I die, and that place is the best way to accomplish it.
Lorelai is nearly ready to give birth to her son, and they've already named the baby: William Starbucks Danes. Much as I like Lorelai, I'm very glad no one has ever asked me my professional opinion about her.
Peter is off on a trip, and I'm not sure when he'll return, and your country's birthday is suspending much of next week, so I have too much time on my hands. Write back when you have time. Or call when you don't; talking to you when you're frazzled is always entertaining.
As always,
Susan