I can help you with that scotch. I really can. I am good at such things. Bring it tonite!

nine again? Except with “Good “Booze?” Your class origins are peeking…

I envy you. The bourgeoisie never, ever, had it with undissolved sugar at the bottom. (We servants never told them about this special effect, discovered early atop the cheerios. Pass the bowl?, Please?)

You have to move the hot iron!

Mistress would never allow logos on clothing, would she?

May I bring some ironing? I could get some in while you are on the way for treatment?

and there was a real Horatio, was a pedophile school teacher. His rise, the man who wrote all those hopeful stories of dear sweet young boys, came after being run out of town (Massachusetts) by concerned parents who apparently really did have something to concern them. (I don’t mean to knock the dream but I do always knock pedophiles if I get a chance.) Young, poor and in love IS a great way to live. Congratulations on that part of it!

of youth! Good cheer, and congratulations. I look very much forward to you sharing this with us.

If I could, but alas, the Strategic Cheer Elimination Talks have left me cheerless today! As they always said, a bottle in front of me…and then something about a frontal lobotomy….I can’t remember since the procedure….Procedure…why do they call it THAT!? Pro-ceed-yur whe I am going back-ward-of-the-state….so many lobotomies, so little time….

I’ll take it conditionally: No players to be named later, options for renewal, seasonal marketing limited to matters of the heart and brain.

It is too warm for coats but I put two on yesterday. Sticky, painty fingers, I have. Primer. For the new porch work, nicely executed I must say. Today the paint on top. I’ve been painting between other obliga-shuns. I think I am beginning to feel how you feel though there is QUITE a distinction b-tween art of the corporal homebodies and the tight knit imaginative flesh of YOUR projects. Today I seek building permits for I need to raise the roof! I have in mind oriental-influenced craftsmen rafter tails projecting two feet beyond the foundations. I am hoping for early 20th century train station appeal, deep overhangs to protect the luggage and those few travellers abiding this stop along their many ways, for, as a brilliant philospher once said, if there is a fork in the road, take it.

My food gournal: braekfast, hunger! Half cup corn meal and half cup whole wheat flour. Stir in milk and egg and one diced, fresh-from-the-tree peach, with skin. Stir and dump into lightly greased (spray canola) skillet. Pan cook or bake until golden brown and crisp. Serve with maple syrup. May be shared since there is a lot of food for one here! One cup coffee, a smile and a check of 43T as garnish. (This would be EIGHT Dollars in a resteraunt!)

I found you last night. The embrace warm and welcome. I think that I could hold you like that for eternity if life were not better sharing time with others from time to time to time. We’ve never shared the eyes like that before either. Should the depths of the dew be so deep? The complexity and understanding? Is the whole devotion I hold so evident? And the light! Such humor!

HHB, I am, yours. ES

One Timmy Horton. You haven’t put a whole team together. If you’re gonna deal in Doughnuts, better geta couple a boxes to start with, not a half dozen.

What’s that you say? Loympics? What olympics? You mean they are doing THAT again? Seems like just yeaterday…..

Unless I need a bank loan from him.

You’ve my heartfelt promise to do bettr.