corrente

Where poison hemlock and the corkscrewy flight of a ruffled shrieking grouse remind us all of long lost summers spent chug-a-lugging yummy hazelnut liqueur imported from the Caucasus states and cheating at pinochle and shooting hapless sunfish in Lake Winola with Old Hank.

Good God. Where is Spring when ya need it? (at least so much as it has decided to skip over me this year. so far anyway.)

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