The Final Day of the Decade
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Our drive home yesterday was relaxed and easy. We listened to the Talking Heads and I read a book by Richard Sullivan aloud to Husbandman. We crossed over rivers and stopped at some of our nation's finest rest areas. We arrived home at dusk and proceeded to lounge around listlessly. I finished Ann Patchett's excellent Commonwealth. It was the kind of book where I found myself muttering, "Slow it down, slow it down. You're reading too fast," but I couldn't. I zipped through the second half of that book like there was no tomorrow. Now we're home again, home again, jiggity jig. Husbandman is going to make fondue for dinner. Then we're heading to Comedy Attic. Hoorah. Happy New Year, my friends.
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