Nevertheless, the blooms will soon fall, and the bushes will come into their own. Perfect, they would be, screening a porch, perhaps with a swing and surely with several rockers. There, shielded from the weather, we could have coffee with the morning paper. A bit of lunch and a nap. Later, an evening nightcap and lies, ok, stories, with friends.
Of course, Sunday afternoon is reserved for hand-churned ice cream, vanilla most times but banana if I'm feeling frisky.
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