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Long live all maidens

easy and beautiful !

Long live mature women also,

Tender and loveable and full of good labor. 

Gaudeamus Igitur

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Roads Not Taken


Hi Sarah,

Not sure why you think it selfish to be wrapped up in that story. And what a story but not a surprise to me like it was to you, as you actually know her.

The garden becomes another room for me in the warmer months, so yes, I've been there for a good part of the day already, reading Andrew Pyper's Killing Circle as well as your intriguing email of this morning. I feel sorry for the woman. I'm surprised she revealed all those sordid details. What was with him that would make him do something like that in public? Is he a frightened closet queen maybe? Is he sick? Maybe he needs attention in the worst way ... or he is love (!) starved or has been a sexaholic from day one. For sure she hasn't been clued in for a while. We’ll leave that one for the professionals.

But ... thirty years ago, she chose marriage and monogamy, a road most often taken in those days, and that was (is still), of course, the star struck couple’s leap of faith, as everyone knows. But ... love is blind. Oh my God! is all I can say. This has got to be just the tip of the iceberg (a most useful cliché) and there's got to be so much more. You'll never find out, I'm sure! It makes me think though, about love and sex and the expression of feelings and what means what to some people. Women crave affection a lot, from what I know. One of my girlfriends once wondered aloud, why does it all have to be so genital? All very mysterious.

Your Tolstoy quote is a little enigmatic. Did you know he suffered from Bipolar Disorder? I'm not sure, but I tend to think that for someone whose life is complete happiness there may lurk in the back of his/her mind the thought of feeling jinxed. So the hoping for the good stuff to remain is energy sapping and a useless mental exercise and thus, bad. Whereas, all the unhappy man can do is hope for a turn for the better. The unhappy man would need hope and if he has it, it would be a true gift that could help him deal. 

Ok case in point, I have hope about these feet of mine. Not to, would be disastrous! 

Sure, show me those particular sentimental phrases in my Good Friday piece for F. I always appreciate the input. Sitting quietly is a good exercise for me, sharpens my powers of observation and rests my feet! Isn’t this spring day so very glorious? Here's Emily's input:                 

                          She slept beneath a tree

                          Remembered but by me.

                          I touched her cradle mute;

                          She recognized the foot,

                         Put on her carmine suit,

                                 And see!

                             (With a tulip)



My account of being with Francis at last night's art opening should arrive in your inbox any time or … maybe it’s better to talk over tea instead – account sounds so … cold. Not sure why I’m holding back. Mixed feelings. Is Eddy on hold?



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