Well, news from Woody is that the Spot might be nearly dried out. He'd find out if he weren't on the ninth floor of a high-rise apartment building that his friends A*** and G**** are renting out. It is pouring rain there and he is whining about it, of course. Tonight's plans include making a Hawaiian dinner for them. I'm sure some of the readers can smell that dinner which we have all been treated to by Wood. Yet another trick he learned from his good life of travels. It reminds me of our little one room cabin, where the fear of fulfilling our father's prophesy of the old brother and sister in the woods, growing old alone, following failed relationships one after another...egad. Typically, in those days, I and the Latvian gypsy would determine and make every meal but maybe once a month we'd be pampered with Woody's cooking -- using every pot in the plumbing-free, one fuse bungalow, and oh yeah, girls, can you wash the dishes...ah, brother. A*** and G**** are in for a good meal.
Other than that, bike is getting worked on finally and he is playing a lot of pool. Okay, I made that last part up; I have no clue what he does with his days -- if he is taking pictures, running for public office, getting in fights with tourists, or saving rare species of turtles. It could be anything. We'll have to hear what he has to say before I make anything else up ----
-- luludilly
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