Filed under Once a Guard and tagged arsenic, bolivar, father, guardianship, Ivan Fail, Konigsberg, missouri, poison, prison | Leave a comment Sep15 The Marigolds of Sintra Posted on September 15, 2021 by Daphne Freise Standard Horse and carriage team at Sintra National Palace As I open ...
Even after a writer signs with an agent, it takes time to market a book to editors — and after the ink is dry on the publication contract, it’s usually AT LEAST a year before a book turns up on the shelves of your local bookstore. A bestseller’s being hot now doesn’t necessari...
(I didn't mention that we also had a case of wine as well as a bottle of rum I had brought back from furlough-you had to buy such things in order to get regular liquors). We were near a state park on the Santa Ynez River. There the river isn’t very deep, if s just a clea...
Thanks to the Sunday Tribune’s decision to axe my weekly Durban Poison column – a move right up there with Decca Records’ decision not to sign The Beatles in ’62 – I have spent the last couple of weeks gathering my thought and getting my duck in a row. I have only one thought ...
I think. In reality at this point I’m just hoping I don’t die with a handful of poison ivy while sitting on the hole we call a latrine. To say the least I was the worst soldier in the worst army on the planet. The simple fact I’m alive might make that statement slightly ...
Jan. 3d.–We have had tremendous festivities here–a ball on New Year’s-eve, and another on the 1st of January–and the shooting for Prince Alfred’s rifle yesterday. The difficulty of music for the ball was solved by the arrival of two Malay bricklayers to build the new parsonage, ...
maybe if we hadn't written all these goddamn LETTERS all the time, I could have kissed you the way I kissed Bob Bartram. Oh, but PLEASE let's see each other spring vacation. Please. I count on you, Andy. I NEED you. I think sometimes I'd go stark raving mad if I didn't have...
one is wholesome food while the other is deadly poison; and humor is all right in its place, and when it does not turn its heroes into quacks and weaklings, it is astonishing to what an extent this good humor will boycott in the one instance and run riot in the other. And I must ...
Maybe if I didn't know you so well, maybe if I hadn't grown up with you, maybe if we hadn't written all these goddamn LETTERS all the time, I could have kissed you the way I kissed Bob Bartram. Oh, but PLEASE let's see each other spring vacation. Please. I count on you, ...