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While Friday, Sept. 13, 2002 - I've been elbow-deep in striped duck all this week. I've been making awnings for a bistro-ish eatery in San Diego. (You did realize I meant the fabric, not the quackers, didn't you? But for a brief nanosecond--what can a nanosecond be but brief?--you did see me immersed in a pile of our web-footed friends, didn't you? And now I'm wondering, as I rewrite this, what kind of ducks did you see? For myself, I saw mallards, or, more disturbingly, heaps of duck meat.) It's such a mistake to let people know you know how to sew. Especially don't let them know you can make things like valances and awnings and draperies and cornices. Because they will ask you to make them. And they will tell their friends that you can make them. And then one day, you too will find yourself elbow-deep in striped duck. Anyway, that's my excuse this week for not writing in my diary. And tomorrow I shall be wafting down the coast to SD to hang the little darlin' ducks, taking the Fiend with me. We'll be whiling away the weekend (when I'm not wrestling with the awnings) with our friends Bast and Jaime. Who need an entirely whole 'nother entry to themselves, not just a walk-on in an episode about striped ducks. And that's my cue to thank Her Imperial Highness for dedicating an entire entry to moi. Thank you, czarina. (That's my Simple and Sincere Thank-You, as opposed to my Weeping All Over My Oscar and Spotting My Versace Tuxedo Thank-You.) last eleven:
Sa r'ji�o oss�vel meninonceiv �o poshik m�'�nch uscantebatahla o�r musiu o�r muiko.
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