To the Village crew who evidently ran out of trees to mutilate: As a daughter of generations of daughters of the Scots Cailleach Bhéara, here’s my wish for you: May your dogs flee to better homes; may your lawns sprout crab grass only; may your house hold no paint and your roof keep no shingles; may your beer sour upon your tongue; may you catch no fish, shoot no deer, kill no fowl; may your teams never triumph and your trucks flake to rust. ******* NOT ONE WORD of that redundant sign was covered by the wisteria. I am vigilant. Why? They have cut down another wisteria and two brilliant morning glory vines over the years. They do this for fun.
Posted on: Fri, 12 Jul 2013 19:07:08 +0000
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