Breaking news on the Mrs. G front! I saw her this morning, leaving her front porch, walking to the store with a young girl (presumably a relative.)

FINALLY! FINALLY! FINALLY! She was wearing something revealing! She was wearing tight, black pants (not spandex, but tight sweats) and a magenta tank top.

I did not realize her ass was so big! All those Amish skirts covered one of her greatest ASSets, no pun intended. Her breasts are bigger than I thought too! She knew I was walking behind her just to get to my car.

I got in my car, pulled out, drove alongside them and tried to watch them from the corner of my eye and then in my rearview mirror.

When I got home a few hours later she had made a point of shutting ALL the blinds - even the ones that are never normally closed.

Well, fuck you then!

I don't want to watch you anyway.

That's a lie.

I need to sit out on my porch and read a bit more.

I'm working on a piece for my writers group. The entire piece is about what I should read in front of Mrs. Garay. A book list, if you will, with the pros and cons of reading each selection in front of her. But will it make a difference whether I read James Patterson or Marcel Proust? Won't the fact that I am reading at all be strange and exotic to her?