Dear Weeds of Sugar Hollow,
Alright. Alright! You win. You are certainly designed for survival – your spines, your thorns, your taproots and your vicious growing habits.
Plus, a sniggly head cold and the ensuing penchant for Lost via Netflix rendered me useless the past few weeks.
And so, you flourished.
But Corey and I talk about you. In the cool of the evening. Over dinner. And we make plans.
Your asses are mine come fall. Yeah. That’s right. So enjoy July and August in the bald sun of the
Kisses,
Tracey
2 comments:
You tell 'em! (and I'll tell mine.) The maple seedlings seem to be taking over the world from where I sit. Their days are numbered. I launch sneak attacks a few minutes at a time, and over the course of the week the casualties can really stack up.
Thanks, girl!
I felt goood to get that off my chest.
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