A thousand things, frankly. After that, while tempted with the thought of picking out Mr. Mouse by his long tail, I left him to scramble while choosing what I needed, and he proved he could jump straight up and out, saving me the trouble.
(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMLVI)
Rain pours like t'would be sweet to bide fr'intents
Safe tucked awa' indoors. I maunt avail
Me, sadly, yet what after that detail?
How Grampa's fruitcake's fin'lly baking hence,
My cousin liking that suggestion, whence
I had to make this treat, as if twas bail
For her, the fun we've planned, if Thou will't, frail
As lo, the wreck of mine, tomorrow's sense.
A mouse. An actual grey, live, fluffy fer
The chill, erm: mouse. He's in my food like to
Partake is thus allowed, out on in tour
My deck, until I come, that is. In poor
'Scuse, now he's had some mango, left tae rue
His feast now I want foodstuffs. Jump as t'were
Three feet straight up and I'm left with the view.
29Dec24a
Oh, Grampa Drysdale's fruitcake! My brothers and I used to beg Mom to make several batches, and she used to cut the slices tissue thin. Bringing it to the event was the winner since my uncle had been craving it.
