I'm not one to keep you [from yest] on tenterhooks . . . "Well did it snow on the weans last night?"
Reader, it did. When you're 8 y.o. that counts as
success; when you're the 48 y.o. adult i/c, the joy is by proxy. It's more about “
O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature's soft nurse, how have I frightened thee. That thou no more will weigh my eyelids down, And steep my senses in forgetfulness?” Apart from the snow and the winter-dead trees, this still from The Alice Park Sleepover [PG] includes a back-lit reformed axe-murderer [centre] who volunteered as security. All good, so.
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