October 29, 2024
Internet out again. I assumed the line was torn when tree trimmers came to tear up the hemlocks, not even hauling the debris away, but the problem turned out to be farther down the line.
Strange episode in the silent night. I tore at the veil. I entered the place behind the veil with all my weapons in my hand.
Barbara Bates Smith is dead. Her “Ivy Rowe” broke my heart, also Gertrude to my Old Hamlet.
Painting riotously. Is that well?
I know I need cataract surgery, but I put it off because I’m certain that it will be a botch and I’ll go blind. There, I’ve said it.
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