We are dropping like flies around here. I have had the self-realization that I probably use too many clichés in my writing. As Boris says in “Whatever Works,” sometimes it is just the best way to say something (or something like that). That is the theory I’m going with.
I got Elisa back to school and now Harriet is at home feeling miserable. Billy is suffering too, and it’s his birthday. It is a special year because he is 52 and I am 25 (ha! not actually true) To top it off, he is baling for Paul Cook. Some of you might know what that means. It is another story for another time.
I’m holding down the fort here. Wish me luck!
By the way, everyone must be better by Friday morning. We have special guests coming for the weekend.