That damnable fridge has stopped working again.
After a serious delay there is often a post mortem on what happened, but this is usually in-house.
Thinks I to myself, “Sol, you're run off your course again. This is a rich man's summer ‘cottage’[…].” So I started to back away again into the bushes. But I hadn't backed more'n a couple of yards when I see something so amazing that I couldn't help scooching down behind the bayberries and looking at it.
We all looked forward with pleasurable anticipation to the bunking-in with Co. G, but we wot not of the familiarity that never savored of boreism which was ours for the whole two weeks.
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