Who would believe that we'd have a sixty degree morning on July Fourth weekend? The hurricane passed us by at sea. Just blew enough rain and wind to get rid of the stank air around here. Left the sky sparkling and cool. I am going to throw a leg over Biffy Bullfrog and ride up to Abbottstown PA, two hours winding through country roads, to meet a farmer who grew a thousand tobacco plants last year on a lark. Got an Amish neighbor to show him how. Baled up the leaves; took a bale to FX Smiths Sons cigar factory ten miles away in McSherrystown, where they rolled them up. We are going to sit on the porch and burn a couple. I guess this is a herf of sorts. Anyone nearby need to drop over at short notice?
I am fascinated by the local grown thing. Like when you stop by the produce stand for brown eggs and corn on the cob and melons plucked that morning. There's a produce stand at a crossroads in Fair Hill MD sells marvelous honey from local bees, all creamy colored, terrific on home made bread. Tried growing some myself last year; but it's clear I have a black thumb.
Here is Biffy Bullfrog, the bike with fifty-five farkles:
Love this bike. Comfy as the day is long.
I am fascinated by the local grown thing. Like when you stop by the produce stand for brown eggs and corn on the cob and melons plucked that morning. There's a produce stand at a crossroads in Fair Hill MD sells marvelous honey from local bees, all creamy colored, terrific on home made bread. Tried growing some myself last year; but it's clear I have a black thumb.
Here is Biffy Bullfrog, the bike with fifty-five farkles:
Love this bike. Comfy as the day is long.
