Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
Wednesday, 12 December 2012
Down the road, early evening.
My fifty-first year to heaven. We crunch the cold hard-frosted leaves and mud-iced ruts; my right thumb hurts its winter hurt. A solitary grey heron beats over the further field.
Sweet Lucy! I wish I could have served you a portion of the braised Sauerkraut I whipped up. But I am certain that Tom and Molly feted you with aplomb. Happy Happy Birthday to you! And here's to many many springs ahead for us all!!
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Sweet Lucy! I wish I could have served you a portion of the braised Sauerkraut I whipped up. But I am certain that Tom and Molly feted you with aplomb. Happy Happy Birthday to you! And here's to many many springs ahead for us all!!
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