It isn't as frosty out there as it has been the previous two mornings but it's plenty chilly for me. Not much sunshine either which always makes me feel it's colder than it is. I'm very excited about having next week off. I have visions of long days planting bulbs and knitting, working on the articles I need to write for TC's newsletter, and generally relaxing. What do you want to bet very little of that'll happen? I intend to do my best but we all know that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. (Did you know that cliches become cliches because they're true? True.) I have to hurry and post this so I can get ready and go to work for the last time in, oh, 10 days. Mwa-ha-ha-ha.
November 3--Tonga. "And that's Malinoa," Drake said, pointing at the speck of an island off the port bow at least a half a mile. Jean shaded her eyes with her hand. "How can you even see that much less know what it is?" She shook her head. He laughed. "I know it's Malinoa because I know where we are at all times." He swept his gaze from side to side as if surveying his kingdom. She made sure her wide-brimmed hat was settled securely on her sweaty head and then shifted into the shade of the sail. "Really." She gave him a skeptical look. "All this water looks the same to me, and you could tell me any name for that little pfft of sand. You say we're in Tonga but that could just be a random patch of island time zones away from where you think we are." Drake smiled and watched the frigate birds soar so high they were nearly invisible.
Hey, I just realized that I'm not as sleepy this morning as I have been the past week or so. Maybe taking my Paxil at supper is the right way to do it. Keep your fingers crossed. From the way I'm typing this morning I evidently have mine crossed too.
--Barbara
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