Yes, of course, dear. You see, actually I am ninety-seven years old and do not see well. I type up this blog on my Remington and my dear devoted grandson puts it onto the Internet for me. He did this catalog card with something called a 'scanner.' What a sweetie.
Darlings, where to start? Sometimes I feel as though I have lived a thousand lives in this one, dewy and unlined though my complexion may be. To Tell All may be to intimidate; thus I maintain, at most times, a discreet reserve. But here I share my musings, perhaps revealing the secret to my exquisite poise and charm.
8 comments:
Do you actually use a typewriter?
Yes, of course, dear. You see, actually I am ninety-seven years old and do not see well. I type up this blog on my Remington and my dear devoted grandson puts it onto the Internet for me. He did this catalog card with something called a 'scanner.' What a sweetie.
ha!
I'm too tired for sarcasm.
This month just keeps pounding me with a jackhammer. I'm so tired, but I'm nowhere close to the summit.
Whatever kind of Tart I am, my dear, I am definitely homemade.
Gracious, Luke, you poor dear. I will summarily refrain from sarcasm until Oct. 1.
Bah! Ignore me. Sarcasm is a valid tool.
For Thimscool....re: no where near the summit...
Knock! Knock!
Who's there?
Summit.
Summit who?
Summit Janet Evening
I shall promise to buy a copy, and I don't buy many things!
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