It's a strange state of affairs, whenever I ask friends how they are, I usually get a one word answer. However, if there is a revolting, inappropriate or downright disgusting story to tell about an injury/illness or gaping wound, then I get the full director's cut. Maybe it's because I am an agony aunt, people think I want to know these things.
Which is why my favourite refrain is often -'Do not tell me if it's revolting' - not that this ever sinks in. So far today I know way too much about a relative's illness, feel sickened thinking about the infected 'spider' bite a friend showed me in Starbucks and want to hurl at the thought of someone's depiction of labour (the birthing kind, not the political kind).
Too much information everyone. Stop it right now!
a little redux (a big redux?)
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There are a few remaining copies of the 25th Anniversary edition of Little,
Big or, The Fairies' Parliament, by John Crowley, with art by Peter Milton.
M...
22 hours ago

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