While I chatted with my sister about this website and how we wanted it to evolve, the buzz on my dry

After Shout Out, OxyClean, bleach and a toothbrush, frayed at the collar though it may always now be, it was hot and blinding white once again and now lavender scented as I returned it back to the wooden peg next to the kiva fireplace in my bedroom. There it was when I awoke this morning. Like an Andrew Wyeth still life, fresh and ceremonial and personal against the polished adobe plaster. I greeted it like an old purified friend, ready to bundle me up for the blurry toddle to the coffee pot. I went out to the covered portico that runs the length of the back of the house connecting the bedroom French doors to another set at the end of my kitchen. The coyote pups were yipping; darting through


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