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When my hand brushes your nipple, An electric shock runs between my legs And surprises me there. When my hand glides against The curve of ...
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So here we go, 2025. Many did not come along with us. We persist for now. I admit to a certain amount of melancholy this season. I spent Ch...
Thank you for the evocative photo. My father grew artichokes in his garden on the bluffs near the Gualala River. Unforgettable -- the taste of a freshly picked artichoke of the variety that he grew.
ReplyDeleteI have always loved eating artichokes. I tried growing a couple in Davis a few years ago and the heat killed them both. But I have seen them in Sacramento, so WTH?
DeleteCount me among the artichoke lovers as well. I use the canned hearts quite often in cooking and the fresh ones are quite a treat.
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