Self portrait.
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This ain’t no love story.
I didn’t find Cleveland in an old woman’s attic, I haven’t partnered with him for 30 years, we’re not even friends. I’d like to say I’m sodden with grief today, that parting with Cleve was like putting down Old Yeller. But I can’t.
Truth is, Cleveland hosed me and I ditched him.
I’m not at an age when I can be patient. Life constricts, opportunities shrink and I have less than no time for a putter that works as well as a hand mixer. I need a magic wand, and I need him now.
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