February 12, 2012 @ 8:36 pm | Filed under: Assorted and Sundry
Do I thrill at the sight of green spikes poking up from the soil because I read The Secret Garden so many times, growing up? Or did I read it so many times because it put into words the thrill I felt in my mother’s garden?
Around These Parts
Not at all an ordinary day
A few quick things
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