The ocean’s much too warm, the drinks much too cold. I really see no future for Hawaii. To me, it's just a fad.
I bought a white couch, despite 2 dogs and a grandbaby. Sometimes, I order out my disappointments, as you might a pizza.
I've offered to watch my daughter's dog, since I don’t like to kennel family members, and Penny Laine is a lovely pup, a beautiful honey-ginger whose hobby is chewing all my best stuff.
I’ll hug my son just a tad too long. To me, he’s that great book you just finished and can’t bring yourself to put down.
Technically, this rum we were drinking was moonshine, and though most rum has a tint, a tan, a sort of teaky Caribbean lacquer, this one did not.
Soon, the clocks will change. Pollen will coat the window sills. The sun will blast the flowers, turn them into hard candy. Boy and girls will drop easy pop flies.
I recommend this red wine as a cure-all for insomnia, disenchantment, athlete’s foot, hair loss, gout. This isn’t Gatorade they’re pouring. It’s more like a bloody steak. Yum.
I’m spending Mardi Gras with my own personal Bacchus (Bittner) up here amid the grapes. “Sonoma,” they call it. Rhymes with coma.