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May 9th, 2017

The sexual sense (now the prevailing one, attested from 1550s, always about a woman and that made-up kind of "purity") is so tied to the chastity thing I don't even want to honor it. Besides, it's the other kind (sometimes with sex in the mix and sometimes without) that I'm thinking about just now.

Super tired today.  Trying a little afternoon (Gold Peak unsweetened) iced tea with my galleys.

Got a cool plastic template for making homemade envelopes.  It makes envelopes of these sizes: 2.6" X 4.1" (65mm X 105mm), 3.9" X 5.8" (98mm X 148mm), 4.5" X 6.4" (114mm X 162mm), and 4.7" X 6.7 " (120mm X 170mm).

I don't have as much call for envelopes as I once did, but if I live until next April, I'll probably need one to mail off my state taxes in.  Meanwhile maybe I'll get me a pen pal going.  I miss having someone who writes letters with me.  Way back when Francie Burnet was among my correspondents, I got a lot of homemade envelopes from her.  She made them out of magazine pages.
 
 
Janus
fflo
'Ff'lo

Hello.

CURRENTLY FEATURING
the
Postcard of the Day

(a feature involving a postcard on a day)

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For another postcard thing, see
my old postcard poems tumblr or
its handy archive.

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Many posts are friends-only; livejournal "friend" me and tell me who you are if you wanna read.

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"What was once thought cannot be unthought."

-- Möbius, The Physicists

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"The moment of change is the only poem."

-- Adrienne R.

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