I am exhausted. There was great big party yesterday at Bishop's Court. Tons of food. A karyoke (sp?) band. Classically awful. Today, I am recovering. But Barbara, I've got to say that I really like the line: Wives sigh at their romantic imaginings, husbands feel a sort of gritty friction in their middle, too out of touch with heir feeling to recognize it as regret. Wow. It reads like poetry.
Bob ;-)
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