I've just returned from a short journey to Neverneverland of Notwriting, which is a very short distance from the Land of Notcooking, which itself resides very nigh to the Kingdom of Imbibingthebottle.
However, I am happy to say that I received typewriter ribbons for Christmas and a new will for productivity for New Years, so I should pick up the momentum again where journaling is concerned. I've also promised myself to write more handwritten letters, although I'm currently mourning the loss of my prized fountain pen--I simply must get over the idea that I can't write well without it. It makes me feel like a superstitious athlete who won't change his socks.
There's herbed chicken baking in the oven, scents are wafting about the house, the table is already set with salad and olives stuffed with almonds, and all is right with the world. New year. Let's try this again. Let's make this year ashonishingly great, even if bad things happen.
2 Things not left unsaid:
Van Gogh is lovely, and he made my day. Soup's on! : ) (I hope you find your beloved pen)
Alas! Gone forever! I think the beloved pen fell out of the front passenger seat of my car as I was putting in roses I had bought myself. A just punishment for my extravagance! I tried to get one just like it on Ebay, but I was outbid in the LAST TEN SECONDS ):!
Glad you liked the sunflowers!
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