run on sentences

My dad's dad, a rather serious Finn named Simon (I can't remember his middle name), has been dead for many years. Maybe at least 25. I was, for some reason, his favorite grandchild even though he never would let me drive a tractor cause I was "just a girl". Even in his somberness, he was more interactive and affectionate than my grandma O. who I remember as being always sure she was dying of something (and of course, eventually she was). The only time I remember her touching me was when she braided my hair in French braids that were so tight that my face stretched like the Joker in the Batman movie. Her name was Clara. She was never very positive but maybe it was cause she worked so hard her entire life and she didn't like my mom. I don't know anything about her childhood or her parents. Maybe this is because I never asked her about them. I never dreamed about her even though I loved her. I remember one gift from her. It was a music box with a ballerina that d

A line of demarcation is where something ends and another thing begins. Literally or figuratively I suppose. The line of demarcation mostly referred to at my house is the spot where my butt cheek turns into my thigh - or where my butt ends and my thigh begins. Bruce has an affinity to this spot and even though I am half asleep, I feel his hand settle on it. He sighs and mumbles, "Ah the line of demarcation is still there". I don't know if he thinks it might go away sometime or maybe my ass will be have fallen over my thigh and there will be no line anymore. Or, my thigh could grow over my ass. So far, despite my not running for 10 weeks (yup I am counting them) this has not happened - thanks to an exercise bike and some other yoga type stretches and maybe to not having an appetite. There are other lines that have nothing to do with asses and thighs. Like the line you cross just when you have one more drink and you know you will be sick in the morning. Or... whe