When I was a little girl, my brittle "maiden" aunt and I shared a miserable travel soap "Suds for Duds" one day and ended up fondly as "Sudsie" and "Dudsie" until her death at age 100
. We have our duets. Currently I can only say that it is toasty here. As the crepe myrtle are blooming and I wanted a particular variety (Red Rocket), after a busy work morning and a far too heavy late lunch insisted on by friends attempting to comfort me for the loss of best boy Teddy (including but not limited to a brave halibut in a deep butter picatta and a lovely peach melba the size of a Volkswagen? at least they let me have unsweetened cold tea without a struggle) I thought I would (burp) head by some of the big chains (pant) to see if there was a bargain/rescue one which I did not find during my in and out of the truck steaming asphalt in and out of the truck overfed and oversugared soiree (whimper). I did come home with a small, big box store ?million bells? plant rescue for the back porch table. Much better to have stayed in and moved slowly and sweetly and without much food, but at least the little plant rescue on the porch is glad I needed some sort of positive marker of my ill conceived trip. Lord Bird Heart is out on some horrid meeting with a financial fellow and I hope I shall not have to get a divorce to avoid participating in a fiscal seduction?sometimes the marriage contract is a pill. Sorry that this is about me and I really am OK in general. Love, Ladybird.

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