Higginy Bothamy
Monday, May 9, 2016
Pickle Poem
Speak a rhyme of pickling
A bucket full of brine
Thirty-seven cucumbers
Fallen from the vine.
When the jars were opened
The pickles they did hatch,
And out swam tiny silver fish
That nobody could catch.
Sunday, May 1, 2016
Meet Grace
Sometimes you just need to see your character.
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