Ralmost there!

Thursday 11:36p.m.
I got to send a typescript of the sensei and reverend's ultimate crime novel to Isabel Atherton. Let's hope she bursts into tears and can't believe her good luck. It's just got to be at the right place at the right time.

This bloggie is one year old. I looked back to see what it was like back then. Dearie me. I thought I was going to get this book published, I thought it would be sunny weather and I could sit under the big trees in the Botanics, like I had the year before, but it was not to be, Jack. It was not to be.

This summer I'm expecting nothing. I noted that last summer I seem to have refrained from alcoholic beveridges for nigh a month. What a heroic effort, but what a total arse I must have been except I can't remember kind of a gig ... to have preceded this heroic effort.

So after noon tomorrow there will be no jobbie for six weeks. Hmmmm? Who knows what that'll be like? Brian Wilson is coming to see me on Thursday. Already it is time to count the fingers and toes.