Wind, in time, rapes the flower trembling on the vine. ~ Sarah McLachlan
Comments, please. It's going to be a long day.**
I slept too much last night. Possibly almost eight hours, but I'm not certain. It culminated in a long dream about working with
Dame Darcy on a song based on "7/7/7." We were working out of ramshackle shotgun shacks in the
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Comments 54
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love fictional language constructs
Same here.
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I'm sorry to hear about New England not working out. My thin southern blood would never survive a winter up there. Again, thank you and Spooky for taking and posting photos. It's a part of the country I may never get to see in person, so I appreciate it.
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I'm sorry to hear about New England not working out.
I don't have words for how much I wanted this to be the solution.
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I can only say I hope it is found with a minimum of heartache, bloodshed, and duress.
I do wish that were an option. But, thank you.
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I think the Siobhan books deserve the effort.
I wish I did. No, actually, I don't, as that would only lead me to question my perspective, and to my devaluing my serious efforts.
The cold, though, would be a permanent adversary for me too.
Maybe it's just something, like mental illness, that I'm going to have to lock horns with for the remainder of my life.
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I've been to Florida Gulf beaches. Flat hot sand and smooth bathtub-warm water, so very different from northern beaches, and very appealing to many. It doesn't appeal to me overall, but I'll admit there's moments, lying there, when the sun beats down on you and through you and it feels as though all the impurities are purged away in the heat and the sand turned to glass beneath you.
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but I'll admit there's moments, lying there, when the sun beats down on you and through you and it feels as though all the impurities are purged away in the heat and the sand turned to glass beneath you.
Yes.
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