You make me feel like a natural Thursday
Without a doubt, my mother is rolling in her grave looking at the way her yard is walking stepwise away from stability, from civilization, from uniform greenness. What can I say? I don't like pesticides and my heart gladdens at the sight of dandelions - whether in cheerful yellow bloom or wistfull, wishfull, ephemera. Today- Spring on Harrison - looks at the chaos I've wrought. Smile.
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