Of Spam and the River

Going through some emails today, it seems I came upon some vague traces of a lost Hemingway novel. The epistolary, straight from the gun style, humbly disguised under this heading:

cause that would make me happy. me, 1982.

I can’t think of a character named after a year, although I know there are some names after months, and even more after days of the week.

The story continues, of our immediately beloved 1982 (and this is all we are given for now), who has written a letter:

dear anne shirley,
it’s been a long time since i last wrote. but i need your advice. i am planning a primary activity for this spring. since our theme for the year is my eternal family, and we like to have our activities point the children to what they are learning, i thought it might be nice if we have a picnic on or near the grounds of the mt. timpanogos temple and let them bask in the beauty of that place and reflect on the importance of their
own eternal family. he is the perfect mix to me of blues and folk and funk and feeling.

do you have to be obsessed with yarn and needles and hooks like i am to think that is the most inviting little space you’ve ever seen?


We should all take cue from the email ghost, and “plan a primary activity for the spring.” I just started working here at Biblio yesterday, so I know what I’ll be doing. If you’re not doing anything with your days, I hear that the grounds of the mt. timpanogos temple are nice.

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