Two...

Two more days! Hehehehe. I can't wait. Oh, it's going to be a lovely weekend, I just know it.

Last night I had a severe case of "writer interrupted." My grip on my train of thought was not firm to begin with, and when Durwood came to bed it derailed altogether, my train of thought went off the tracks right into a ravine, never to be seen again.

March 23--Panarea. No cars were allowed on the island. That royally pissed Jeremy off. He didn't like to be told he couldn't have something. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted it, and that was that. But he also wouldn't back down or admit that he should have done a bit more research, or listened to his administrative assistant, namely me, before plunking down what amounted to my annual salary to rent a seaside villa on an island in the Tyrrhenian Sea for a month. I had to go online and search to locate the darned island.

Hmm, but reading it now I kind of like this. Maybe it'll get a bit of attention this weekend.
--Barbara