Dear Julia Child,
Keeping interest is not an issue, but time seems to slip through cracks that are in between minutes and hours, hours melt into whole days, and before I know it the fluidity of time has engulfed me through the funnel of this hourglass. Someday I'll find the time to write again, real gourmet lines that I'll savor slowly after swishing them in my mind like a good wine. My fingertips will lick the keyboard from all the flavor dripping out. For now there are always matters at hand that require immediate attention, and every time I feel like writing a creme brule, it always reads like jell-o.

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