Many times, I thought of quitting this book. In the third June, we meet up with a woman whose list of men is long and sorry and wrong. While weekending at a Long Island house with one of these men, and pregnant by another, nothing much happens.
Millions of us fight to get our manuscripts onto editors' desks and this one makes it through.
Apparently, it was sandwich week at our house. After last weekend's turkey/cranberry wonder, we followed up with:
I was so sad when I took the last bite of this hoagie. But there's a half tub of leftover garden vegetable cream cheese in the fridge. Spread on a bagel, it goes a long way toward keeping my fond sandwich memories alive. And I never had a thing for that cream cheese flavor before.