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A pink triangle works, too.That’s a tea strainer.My father is downstairs.He is, too.Comet hasn't scratched yet.Mr. Clean as the White Tornado.Earring pirates fear spinach.And I say the hell with it.
Bissage, wonderful Bissage:Bon ami hasn't scratched yet.Josephine the Plumber can take care of that stain for you.
Don't overcorrect wonderful Bissage. He's doing it on purpose. What, I'm not exactly sure, but Mr. Clean doesn't go with white tornado either. Anyway, Bissage has inspired me to do a new post.
What, no pot of gold?
Now we know where the rainbows go to end in Madison. A sweet morning photo captured by the ever curious Professor.
That's not my sink and not my photograph. Note that the post title is a quote.
Now we know where the rainbows go to end in Cincinnati. A sweet morning photo captured and sent to us by the Meade Branch of the ever curious Professor and Associates.
There's a kiss at the end of the rainbow more precious than a pot of gold.
It's from the low to the high, which is found only in the ordinary.
Um, a rainbow needs rain. If that's a rainbow, I foresee a visit from a roofer in the near future.
Someday you'll find it, the rainbow connection.....
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