To help me to leave all my blues behind
I slept about three hours last night due to the effects of accidental coffee-poisoning, but this afternoon I made an almond torte for Mother's Day and decorated it with the chocolate ducks which
spatch and I picked up last night from Burdick's. I had been waiting months to show them to my mother. She loved them.

Thanks to collecting a 1969 paperback of Sherwood Anderson's Poor White (1920) from one of the little free libraries near my parents' house out of sheer curiosity, I realized that I had never encountered his work on page or screen and instead had him mentally composited from Maxwell Anderson and Robert E. Sherwood.
The coyote that trotted across my path as I walked the neighborhood after dinner was unexpected.

Thanks to collecting a 1969 paperback of Sherwood Anderson's Poor White (1920) from one of the little free libraries near my parents' house out of sheer curiosity, I realized that I had never encountered his work on page or screen and instead had him mentally composited from Maxwell Anderson and Robert E. Sherwood.
The coyote that trotted across my path as I walked the neighborhood after dinner was unexpected.

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We get coyotes in my neighborhood sometimes.
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She still manages accents and languages, and effortless switches between them, with a fluidity I envy.
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Nine
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P.
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Oh, dear! Congratulations on nevertheless achieving admirable cake/torte, though. ♥
The coyote that trotted across my path as I walked the neighborhood after dinner was unexpected.
!!!
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Hail, coyote!
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