Poem: 2020 Becomes 2021
There’s not much to say at this time of the year, the weather is as you find it each day – the work is on hold, the books are still piling up, the bad movies will never run out and the dog likes a walk but isn’t (too) bothered if it’s not every day.
Not much to complain about – which isn’t so much a nice change as a solid continuation. It makes the writi…
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