An open window, the other night, let in the scent of fall. The lullaby breeze spoke the sound of fall. A walk outside, the next morning, defined the feel of fall against my face. The sticks and leaves played hopscotch and I saw it. It has, most certainly, arrived.
At the Noe Valley farmer's market, today, I got to taste it!
you are my blessed jewel. what you make with all that sissy-pants?
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