Tuesday night, as the week before, my husband asked me if it was ok for him to go and have a few beers with his pals, John and Peter, I told him it wa... ok, that I'd call over to my friend and have a glass of wine or two, he had a shower and dolled himself up, he smelled like a fucking perfume factory when he came out of the shower, this was no few beers with the boys I thought to myself, but said nothing, off he went, and I phoned my friend to come collect me in her car, we were like to private. I think I'm ready for a nice quiet job." I expected that a quiet gig would help to pass the time. And help me get past my depression.There was a damp chill in the air that cut down on my plane's performance, but it was still above simply adequate. It was fun even if I was bundled up like an Eskimo princess. I sat the plane down and rushed to my truck to warm up before I put it away. It appeared that I might just put the plane away. I had flown it a long time without a heater but I didn't think. More

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