Owls flit and owls fly free, high above the old oak trees. Angels of night they fancy to be, flying over the old oak trees.
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This blog has moved!
Saturday, February 11
For the record . . .
Just FYI, I've gotten a
Tumblr
account . . . So, unless I figure out a way to automatically send those posts here, you might as well just follow that.
:)
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