Hi everyone including you,
Smudge - seen your name but our paths haven't really crossed. I'm the one they call Kit, or Kip.
...and at the moment I'm perishing under packing boxes.
What a strain it is to move.
My place is so tiny. I had made a careful plan for the movers regarding how to stack the boxes � which ones on top, which ones at the bottom. This is because I have several herniated discs and I didn�t want to spend the first night unpacking thousands of books just to get to the butter. Well, the movers were so kind, two nice young boys who studied my plan closely and didn�t make me feel like a bitch, and they carried my plan out to the letter � only, as if they�d held the paper upside down. I think it�s a cosmic joke on me. I�m always trying to control everything.
Jude, how delightful it was to read about your dad�s night on the town!
No I don�t believe my mother ever made me wear a liberty bodice,
Robinia, but with each passing year it�s becoming more and more apparent that she secretly deposited every feature and look of her own in my care, so that�s the more radical approach, I guess. Don�t know who penned this, but it sure is true:
Mirror mirror
on the wall
I am my mother
after all
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