Second Thoughts

What else? I'm having them, foremost among them, Damn, I may not have much to say. Which would entail the production of drivel, writing characterised by a low ratio of sense to verbiage. Or, as my Nearest and Dearest says when unimpressed by some article, What a lot of words!

Ever have that gut wrenching feeling that comes when you realise you've just done something stoopid? And you can't blame anyone else? It's a cliche expression, but if you consider its original, literal meaning, it's a precisely true description of the experience. There's a twist and clamping down, a lurch in the world around you, and you realise that you may not know how to recover from your stoopid action. Or omission, in this case. The Horticultural Society meets in the Marina lounge, but we need a key to get in, and I'd forgotten to pick it up at the Town Hall. Ungggh! Luckily, Richard M. has a key, and I was able to track him down and borrow it, so we had our meeting at the right time and place.

I added the picture to find out how to do it. I hope you like it. This amaryllis bloomed in our front porch window two years ago.

Good night all.