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Greetings from my shed...
The end of a glorious day. I’m balancing the sun baked warmth of my shed with ice in my drink. Write sober and edit with a glass of fine bourbon.
I’m pretty sure Hemingway would approve of the process. Not necessarily the outcome.
I promise i’ll try to avoid any chat around our bin fire of a government.
Let us take some solace that spring feels very much…
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