Never grow a wishbone, daughter, where you backbone ought to be.
The day has the color and the sound of winter. Thoughts turn to chowder...chowder breathes reassurance. It steams consolation.
We all have hometown appetites.
Chowder breathes reassurace. It steams consolation.
Beer is the Danish national drink, and the Danish national weakness is another beer.
A tiny radish of passionate scarlet, tipped modestly in white.