Diary of a Hand-Spinner
Hee! Those are GORgeous! In a funny, related story, Matt and I were out with some friends the other night, and the guy admitted that he didn't know what a daffodil, or even a crocus was! My gasted, it was flabbered, I tell you. AND he was a nineteenth* generation farm boy. But, how does one go about desCRIBing a daffodil to someone who can't conjure up an image? Oh, I tried, I tried...*Yes. Nine. TEENTH. His family used to own (way back in the day of Missions and Native Americans and Spanish), much of what is now Orange County. Bizarre, I know.
Post a Comment