Always will always be always. I dreamed about her again last night. I woke up wondering -- could I ever love anyone again?
Even to hold her hand, it was electric. When we made love, it was the world. When we talked -- no matter how fast I skipped from one thing to another, so that there was no micro-second of difference between what I thought and what I said, but I was just talking like a jazz singer. No matter how fast, but she was always there, right there, even before I got there, like silver lightning, just to hear me. She always understood everything I said.
This is really interesting stuff
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How Frog Hospital got its name
News and commentary by Fred Owens in LaConner, a small town in the Skagit Valley. The story behind the name: There was once a grocery store in a quonset hut, run by Mr. Grobschmidt. Clyde, an old drunk who lived out on the river, thought that Mr. Grobschmidt looked like a frog, so he took to calling the store the "Frog Hospital." Now the quonset hut, Mr. Grobschmidt, and Clyde are all gone -- only this blog survives to carry on the Frog Hospital tradition.
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