When I was a kid and my family was driving back from our annual August vacation in New Hampshire, my mother would always break into song. “On the browning fields the spider spins, and the lambs no longer play, and the cricket now his chirp...
When I was a kid and my family was driving back from our annual August vacation in New Hampshire, my mother would always break into song. “On the browning fields the spider spins, and the lambs no longer play, and the cricket now his chirp...
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