Sunday, July 30, 2017

Cola Strike. Horrors!

Horrors! The Coca-Cola drivers are on strike and the stores are running out of Coke. I’m coming face-to-face with my addiction, going store-to-store and buying up their stock. And all my shades are down; I’m living in the dark with my fans on high. I sleep very comfortably but the heat by evening is startling — especially in my kitchen. 
Steve, my ex and whom I adore, is in Victoria. It’s so much fun to Facetime him and as he holidays with his man, Tim. They arrive here on Wednesday. I can hardly wait.
These endless summer days are exactly what I dream of all winter. The weather is perfect — absolutely perfect, day after day; still, I had a pretty strong anxiety attach when I was with Bruce Saturday. I took him fresh fruit that he likes and I packed it in ice so it was nice and cool when he got it.
He asks every time that I return the following day even though he dismisses me every time I visit. It’s just like with his phone calls; he’s always the one to quit us.
In the evening I glued shells and baked barnacles. The defiant dress takes endless work.
I’ll be attaching them to the pole tonight while I watch Grantchester. Yum!
Our former premier, Christy Clark, is gone. She not only resigned as party leader, she resigned her seat. She’s totally gone. Yay! And her cohort sinking turds are in chaos. Double yay!





















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