“No, I’m just a man. You can tell me, anyway.”
It is so over for Trads of all stripes
It is so over for Trads of all stripes
he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes.
“He casteth forth his ice like morsels:
who can stand before his cold?”
Who indeed.
he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes.
“He casteth forth his ice like morsels:
who can stand before his cold?”
Who indeed.
But now stuck in self-doubting inertia/procrastination. Damn.
Mom is one of the greatest phrase-turners I know. (My cousin is another; it was she who yelled the immortal “Have you tried having ears?” at a bad driver who ignored everyone honking at him.)
Mom is one of the greatest phrase-turners I know. (My cousin is another; it was she who yelled the immortal “Have you tried having ears?” at a bad driver who ignored everyone honking at him.)
I don’t know why.
I don’t know why.
Hm.
Hm.
A mysterious manor in the Scottish countryside, a library of vintage novels, a collection of the world’s rarest wines, an owl to deliver and retrieve my post, a butler with a mysterious backstory, and my own personal pastry chef.
I'm really not that hard to shop for.