Summertime brings me fond memories of summers spent with my grandma, climbing the giant tree in her front yard and baking sweets in her kitchen. Warm evenings at her house were magical. While the sun was setting and the day drew to a close, we’d sit on her front porch swing eating ice cream that …
Little known fact about me (that isn’t necessarily going to win me popularity votes…) – I really don’t care for ice cream. There. I said it. Any time I admit it out loud, I get a look suggesting I ought to be confined to an island far, far away. That idea is sort of appealing …
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