"Whatever shall we do in that remote spot? Well, we'll write our memoirs. Work is the scythe of time." --Napoleon Bonaparte, on his way into exile.
From the doubles semi-final, which followed the singles semi after the rain stopped and they cleaned up the courts.
"Mad" Max covered his mouth every time he had a conversation with Bjorkman. Like his opponents could read lips across the court.
posted by Denise @ 10:30 AM
I've been taking photos since I eagerly asked for and received my first camera on my 12th birthday. Naturally, I was made for scrapbooking. I also enjoy knitting, quilting, and swimming. I used to be CreativeExile; my email still reflects that!
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Mistress Bradstreet, by Charlotte Gordon
I need to learn more about the history of poetry. And history in general.
JUST FINISHED
American Fuji, by Sara Backer
I've been dreaming about Japan ever since.
Perhaps someday they both may get listed
on my woefully out-of-date booklog:
CREATIVE BOOKS
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