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The Painter's Wife

A canvas that sits for ever, reflecting only a chapter of the life of a lady but a lifetime influence on a man.

Friday, January 1, 2010

Fair weather friends

I am surrounded by fair weather friends. The slightest storm in a teacup and they flee like fleas on a wetback. Fleaing from adversity as if there were'nt an empathetic bone in their flexible body. 12 years of cocktail raising stands for nothing.
Posted by The Painters Wife at 4:21 PM

2 comments:

Contact Me said...

I hear you on this one.

January 26, 2010 4:18 PM
ryk said...

Exactly my experience!!

August 27, 2011 9:48 AM

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Blog Archive

  • ▼  2010 (5)
    • ►  July (2)
      • two days of rain in the desert is enough of a shi...
      • Who she was and who she is yet to be
    • ▼  January (3)
      • Re evaluation
      • Every step of the day.
      • Fair weather friends
  • ►  2009 (4)
    • ►  March (4)
      • The occasional thorn
      • First blossom on Apricot Tree
      • The night before the night before
      • Being by my side
  • ►  2008 (12)
    • ►  December (1)
      • How do you break a pattern that is so ingrained t...
    • ►  October (2)
      • The Hans Holbein Connection
      • Everybody stops six feet from the edge.
    • ►  September (4)
      • The Currendero and the Curse
      • To be or not to be
      • The clearing from the Storm
      • The first time he left me was our first Valentine...
    • ►  August (5)
      • The land is swamped with moonlight. A mysteriou...
      • To meet or not to meat
      • Lost in time
      • Let it rain
      • The end of summer

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