permanently pressed repressed and depressed

[wylde]

I went downstairs with my shawl and a copy of Ben Franklin's 'Almanacs' to reclaim my chair in front of the fire. A sharp wind blew the dusty snow outside, even the floors were cold, but my toes stayed toasty warm. I begin to think that this chair has a sleeping spell built into it, when I hear the gentlemen roaring at the other side of the house... Poker Night.

[wylde]

Owen found me curled up in the chair, the book still open to page 36. He took the book and laid it on a table, then drunk as he was, carried me up to bed, still sleeping.

[wylde]

[If he'd have dropped me, I'd have kindly kicked his ass. He'd had a good night of it and neither lost his ass to me nor them. In fact, he scored a new saddle and a Winchester, and just because he was in such a good humor, he woke me up ...and scored again. MEN! ]*sighs

[wylde]

Owen was up early, and gone to town, but I felt a warm kiss to my brow before he left, and the warm blanket I was missing was relain, my comfort restored... I try not to interfere with his business, but I wonder what has enticed him to the cold and snow. Christmas, perhaps...

[wylde]

[Crinkles paper and tosses over left shoulder... Can't go down without a fight.]

[wylde]

[Ok. Back to the ranch...]

[wylde]

[Ok. So. I'm a sucker for lost causes... ]

[fluffy]

????........i've been ill in bed with sore tonsils and a fever ......i come on and everyones dead....

[wylde]

Sorry about your tonsils.

[wylde]

We're not dead yet, a little worse for wear maybe, but I needed a good cry.

[fluffy]

thanx.........

fluffy

[wylde]

I just love him, Nicky, what more can I say?...

[wylde]

I'm permanently pressed repressed and depressed.

[wylde]

[fluffy]

lol......no problem........i'm under no illusions........Mr Carrey probably doesnt know i exist, or if he does loathes me.........lol.......his loss...

fluffy