Good morning, good morning.

It's too late to say good night.

Blog Archive

  • ▼  2008 (67)
    • ►  December (19)
    • ▼  November (24)
      • Mensch
      • Time goes by.
      • Dinky
      • Ghost ship #312
      • On the rocks
      • Whatever happens in this alley . . . stays in...
      • Pippi Longstocking aka Carmen Sandiego
      • Are they real Americans?
      • Somewhere over yonder
      • Framed
      • Not bare-chested in the fountain
      • Big bird
      • leafy issues
      • Careful.
      • Used to could
      • Namibia in Infrared
      • Boy with the checkered shoestrings
      • Fiddlin on the ferry
      • Smile for Michael
      • Once and future morning
      • Commuting to the sun
      • Father of the groom
      • Moody's point of view
      • I beg, I thank, and here come the storks
    • ►  October (24)
  • ►  2007 (60)
    • ►  October (19)
    • ►  September (31)
    • ►  August (10)

Contributors

  • Hole in the Clouds
  • Torture Accountability

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Somewhere over yonder


Late in the afternoon of April 2, 2006, we looked out our window across the street, just past the Lutheran church and right smack in back of the Cumberland Farms Exxon station--yup, there it was, the pot of gold.

Posted by Torture Accountability at 9:26 AM

No comments:

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
View mobile version
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)