Bee Eff Dee
In Which Your Humble Blogger feels it necessary, for some reason, to chime in on the important issues of the day, despite y’all already knowing what note I’m chiming.
In Which Your Humble Blogger feels it necessary, for some reason, to chime in on the important issues of the day, despite y’all already knowing what note I’m chiming.
In Which Your Humble Blogger chips in and chips out, or something. Three more days, and maybe I will be able to think again.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is more relieved than giddy. And more tired than relieved. But it got done.
In Which Your Humble Blogger probably could have guessed the punchline beforehand.
In Which Your Humble Blogger does not spoil the book, or any other book for that matter. At least not now.
In Which Your Humble Blogger repeats from the mark.
In Which Your Humble Blogger just sat here, blinking, like a dumb statue or a breathing stone, and looked dreadful pale, although that last is my natural state, particularly since it has been raining for a week.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is only fairly sure that he ever finished the book, come to think of it.
In Which Your Humble Blogger wonders what things would be like if they were not as they are. Different, I’m guessing.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is pleased, and then unpleased, and then perhaps pleased again, and then, well, we’ll see.