Thursday, August 2, 2012


So. I meant to write yesterday, on the first of the month. Calamity Jane's deathday [1903], poor soul, when she was only about 52 yrs old, after a rough, hard life in the Old West, which is only romantic from a distance. Generous. Teller of tall tales, that got all the taller as she got older &, too often, drunker. So different, looks-wise, than Doris Day. But I got busy with a revision, working at it the better part of yesterday so, oh well. So now it's the 2nd of August. Anniversary of the day ol' Warren G. Harding kicked the bucket and not because the first lady poisoned him and I'll bet people wouldn't have thought so if she'd been pretty, but alas.  Poor Florence....

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