. . . hankered then for huckle berries local $5/pint

. . . And I don’t know how to do other than keep the deal I’ve made with MORTALITY – that if need be I will hold hands and dance with that Sovereign Somberness, but nevermore entertain His Grave Solemnity in state.

.
So now, coming back online, I feel this backlog of the things I’ll never say.

The deliciously guilty pleasure, for example, of the first day I didn’t have to stay all day, making breakfast, washing bedding, washing carpets, trying to come up with something else Dad would/ could eat. . . .

[story: “all the things I’ll never tell you now“]

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