Lucky me, lucky mud.
And thank you.
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Dulled roar
And getting duller all the time.
Thanks, again.
And again.
Hum.
Hummmmmmmm.
Spring ahead, fall back.
Oh, wouldn’t I like to turn back the clock. Or maybe forward. Let’s say forward.
Just some harmless ventilation
Or venting. I suppose that’s different.
Trusting
What trust we can muster
Countdown to three hundred, or maybe we’ve passed that already.
It depends on how you look at it.
The Rhône and the Rhône diaspora
Dear Feastlings, While this week’s email is a fraction less chipper than that of last week- admittedly, I counted some of those chickens before they were hatched- it still feels as though we’re on track to better our situation in time for the busy season. We’re seeing a few of you trickle back into town […]
Can you taste it?
I can. Or at least I can smell it, and it smells amazing.