Seven o’clock and all’s well. Just late, is all, and my evening glass of wine is calling. I’ll try to do better tomorrow. Promise.
Seven o’clock and all’s well. Just late, is all, and my evening glass of wine is calling. I’ll try to do better tomorrow. Promise.
Categories: Uncategorized
journal of a writing man
vol 13 ~ 2010
The daily journal and other web works of an English poet, writer and artist.
vol 1 ~ 1998
vol 2 ~ 1999
vol 3 ~ 2000
vol 4 ~ 2001
vol 5 ~ 2002
vol 6 ~ 2003
vol 7 ~ 2004
vol 8 ~ 2005
vol 9 ~ 2006
vol 10 ~ 2007
vol 11 ~ 2008
vol 12 ~ 2009
~~~+~~~
| Neva on Pass the ketchup | |
| Krista on Pass the ketchup | |
| Novie on Pass the ketchup | |
| Brigitte on Pass the ketchup | |
| Maureen on Pass the ketchup |
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6 responses so far ↓
gary // June 10, 2009 at 7:50 pm
I am amazed you would wait until 7 for that wine…..
Kate & Jim // June 10, 2009 at 11:29 pm
Enjoy yourself!
Mage Bailey // June 11, 2009 at 2:16 am
And what’s the wine?
Jas // June 11, 2009 at 3:15 am
More to the point, what’s with the apologies?
To misquote The Bard, ” Every subject’s duty is the king’s; but every subject’s blog is his own.” You write when you’re good and ready, is what I say…
Andrew Duffin // June 11, 2009 at 7:35 am
The problem with summer is that it’s so much later before the sun is over the yardarm!
sfmarty // June 12, 2009 at 10:09 pm
Two days later…you ok?
Like gas stations in rural Texas after 10 pm, comments are closed.