We must have had a local politico move into our rural paradise. All of a sudden our narrow, two-lane road has been repaired and repaved. What's next--a yellow stripe down the middle?
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The deer have gotten desperate enough to chew on the pansies in the urns outside the front door. We never have found a totally deer-proof flower. They'll even eat salvia if the mood strikes them.
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Whatever the weather is in Austin, it's cooler here--thank you, God. But winter is nearly over, which makes Fiorella sad.
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