Sunday, July 1


I almost had a bonfire tonight.  Then I realized that I can't picture sitting around a bonfire by myself.  (First of all:  painful to attempt that.)

I miss my B.  I want that house he's looking at, the one with the giant yard, where Huck could run free while we had a bonfire and talked.  Where I could grow an enormous garden, or maybe have the same amount of vegetables, spread out so that I'm not growing a jungle.  Maybe we could get a goat?  Probably not a goat.  I think it's just the knowlege that we could have a goat that I like about that place.  You think that if they allow a goat, they'd allow chickens, right?  Maybe a couple of chickens.  (Whenever I think about my desire for chickens, I think of this bookwhich, by the way, is a very good book.)

This is pretty much a stream-of-consciousness post, and my consciousness is being interrupted by the fireworks, so I'll leave you to your day.  Carry on, and all that.  

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