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Bow Tie Tuesday



Geezuss, I just accidentally erased a whole long post between these two pix.

It talked about the snow, and having just made a glimpse at my day post about yesterday. so having a hard time coming up with much to say.  It talked about it being a big performance week for me and Tracy, though our audition for the later show was snowed out.  It talked about Bette Davis and Jezebel, which has been on in the background while I text for Bernie tonight, and how I've never watched the whole thing, and the distaste I have for some of what I know of it, and how it sucks that Henry Fonda, Mr. Bossy and Propriety, would deserve blame if there were justice, but (though I didn't say it this way) nobody ever calls anybody a Preston Dillard.

I said how my neighbor said the farmer's almanac says this'll be a brutal winter.  I said how I didn't do that much shoveling tonight, but just wanted to get inside, and how nice it is to have so much of an evening.  I don't remember what else I said, but it ended with how I am over being sick now, pretty much, finally, though my joints and muscles hurt, the former maybe cuzza the coming of the cold and the latter almost certainly cuzza all the yardwork I got in Sunday, having heard snow was coming but not knowing it'd be, like, 8 inches.  And then I said something like however much it was, it sure was pretty, and here's what it looked like out my bathroom window last night.

 Now behind a cut.Collapse )
 

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My typewriter is fixed.

Chuck fixed it.  He's the typewriter fix-it guy.  Its belt's days are number, though, and you can't buy replacement ones, so I may pick up another typewriter like this one if I can find one cheap, just to have an extra.  But he oiled it up good, so it may last a while, especially if I don't use the typewriter a lot (and I don't).

The painting I wanted isn't as negotiable as I need it to be, alas.  So I'm getting a canvas print instead.  Should still be pretty nice, but not like having the real painting, of course.

We had our department lunch today.  So I have leftover good mac 'n' Ig-Vella-cheese to take home.

Yesterday kicked my ass, with a confluence of health stuff.  Such is life sometimes, however.  I'm still goin', at least.

Guess that's it for now.  Mostly I wanted to say my typewriter's fixed, to fix it in my mind to go pick it up this weekend.  And then I'll write Eddie, finally.
 
 
 

Bow Tie Tuesday





It's Tuesday!  I'm back at work this week.  Still coughing, but not as much, nor as phlegmily.  (My lungs sing "We Koff Phlegmily!  All our Bronchiolae go 'Wheeze'!  We Koff Phlegmily!  We are Pleura Alveoli!")  (Okay not really.)

I want to buy a painting.  It costs a lot.  It's "negotiable".  I could offer a lot that's a lot less than the lot that it is.  I don't want to insult the artist.  I just want to offer a lot that's not as much a lot as the asking a lot.

So much has been going on.  A lot of it's chorus-related.  A lot is about coming back to life and moving around in the world, while trying not to get carried away with it.

Happy Bow Tie Tuesday.

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Hello.

CURRENTLY FEATURING
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"The moment of change is the only poem."

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