I know, and you know. It's not easy. So it is good of you to keep coming by. I'm making an effort, see? But sometimes a thing just doesn't happen, and then it keeps on not happening, and though good things are going on and nobody is hurting and golf is played and drinks are had in the sun, the day still ends on nothing.
There are guh-billions of blogs and websites, and I could be a-linking them to fill the empty places, but that's like some diet pill, false satiation, and I know in the end that my end won't conform to the sham. Busy? Sure, but you're busy, too, and you keep it up. Tired? C'mon. Who isn't? That's no excuse. Fact is, sometimes it just don't come.
One digs the holes and fills the wagon, the other seems forever on the oven. The third? All shoes and hair clips and thinking that wagons and ovens are things for having fun. No wonder she still loves us - she thinks that everything that we toil over is as amusing to us as it is to her. Which means that everything is amusing. Always. She is so much good and right.
I'll get something going again. Honest.