Failed raid on Orillia

Fairly wretched celebratory lunch at Montana’s. The designer obviously can see in the dark. Reading the menu was toug. I grew tired of trying to discern my plate. If you go there bring a flashlight or a higway flare.

We skipped our other plans. Felt more  like a defeat than a celebration.

Still bad days can accompany good days. Strength wells up and sits right down again. Sliding forward, like wiggling my bum to get in and out of the car seat. Looking for a small beauty under my nose. Soon I will be back facing a purposeless stay on the green side.

“How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, dreaming of home.”  William Faulkner, frpm I think Absalom, Absalom.

Auden won our word tennis match, five hours to one.

The new Man from U.N.C.L.E. Is a terrible movie, Guy Ritchie is a zero.

Author: William J. Gibson

62 year old - writer/photographer Canadian, survived open heart surgery, received kidney transplant, sometimes dour, sometimes amusing, over six feet in height, severely follicle challemged

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