If you look closely, you'll see my grand frog, Dennis Hopper. My son acquired him when his older tree frog, Sigmund Freug, was showing signs of loneliness and wouldn't eat his crickets. He was getting so thin his ribbits showed. Now they're warm (actually room-temperature) friends.
-- Ink Stained Wench**
Hiatus update: I am up to my eyeballs in a word by word, line by line edit project with a client. As I'm sure all of you know, something like this is all-consuming. I've not been able to tackle it with full force until I had this extra time. So, thank you for providing content right now.
First night with the AC unit installed and running last night. It was lovely. It's not unbearably hot yet but it's hard to work when you're sticking to the keyboard.
Still no cooking gas. I'm on a first name basis with the bodega delivery dude. He might be my date to the office Christmas party the way things are going. What do you tip for something like that?
**who was Ink Stained WRETCH
for many a mention until she finally,
kindly, gently pointed out the error.