And just one more, or maybe two more things before I go to bed: I'm picking up Sable this morning at 10:30 a.m. from her foray to Atlanta. Phyllis McEwen is Sable, her Right Bank Poets, Artists and Writers Group and Ladies' Tea and Terrorist Society name - Mine is Thelma, Martha is Louise. There is no exposure in telling you this. They are all loving names given to my friends. Other women have other names.

We're going to Peace House for our Friday night bash. I'm going to get Tary and Karole in line for a blog, a website and someplace to sell their jewelry art. So. I'm taking my wonderful little Sony Cybershot, the buss port and the disk that goes with it. I want them to photgraph their jewelry so you can see it. See. If I can show you the wonderful things that they make to adorn Us, you'll have to have them!

Listen. I'm in love with women's art. I'm not hearing from you so I'm going to publish the old stuff from the past issue hard-copies of Deepwater Journal. Maybe if you see that the authors are 11 year olds, nurses, housewives and born again Cherokee women, you'll submit. There are NO turn downs!! No kitchie boards where the judges vote for their faves. Where are your stories? Where is your art? Where are your words? Where are YOU???

Okay. To that end, Marty suggested that I get another blog to log on the word heavy short stories and poetry like The Ballad Of Darlahood which flames over several pages and authored by my Goth Otherchile, Darla. And Phyllis' Bad Ass Women Walking On The Planet Now. There's also text heavy short stories I wrote called, Jimmy Names The Cat, Dreamsong For a Cracker House, and Daddy's Coalesscence. And then there's Annie Shanahan's story about her moma's kitchen. So I think that I'll do that extra blogsite so that the words can go in uncensored. Get up off the floor. Send me your work! Don't lurk-create!!