No pictures today, will try to keep you interested with prose. Ian has just walked up to Wally World to get oranges, grapefruit, anything green and a wrench to fix a loose metal piece on, how did you guess, my bike frame that hides something underneath that is wrattling like crazy. Hmmm, a new Harley is sounding more and more appealing. Writer's block is rearing its ugly head at this moment. Picture me in a Super 8 motel, sitting in a bed whose springs can be felt underneath the sheets, Kleenex box by my side, the glare of a burgundy and blue flowered quilted bedspread staring at me from below (these things are out to haunt us), AND a bright PINK painted wall failing miserably to cheer me up, all this plus listening to rowdy trains
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