Anybody got a clue when it'll be summer for more than a day at a time? When's the next full moon? Maybe we need a dance, with a few virgins sacrificed at the end. Okay, okay, we won't use real virgins, we'll get some Goodwill dolls. Sheesh, everybody gets all het up over a little joke.
Bob, I'm glad you're still writing. I'll be posting my poetry a couple times a week on my new poetry blog at http://poemsandpix.blogspot.com. Stop on over.
Jennifer, I've got my one altered book all packed and ready to take to writer's tonight. I'm glad you like it. It was a blast to make.
June 4--Pierre-Auguste Renoir, The Luncheon of the Boating Party. The wine was having an affect on Cecile and Andre. Her hat, her new hat bought especially for today, was dented and cocked at an odd angle where Perro had brushed it when he lurched over. Perro leaned on her back. She felt the heat of him through her thin summer dress. Andre was feeling the day's heat too. He had removed his jacket and cravat earlier when they were on the boat. Once they had arrived for lunch he took off his shirt and ate his meal in only his singlet and straw boater hat. Cecile liked the strong look of Andre's arms and shoulders and the way his sandy brown hair curled at the base of his head, but she liked the ropey muscles of Perro's arm across her back too. What to do, what to do? Have more wine.
Enjoy your day and I'll see some of you tonight.
--Barbara
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