The perfect balance between soft and firm, slightly crumbly, a little buttery and always sweet.
We all pay for our sins somehow.
Jump. Run. Walk. Ball. Throw. Catch. Milk. Baby… Mother.
Year to year, knee to knee and back to knuckles, there’s a moral to this gobshite’s tale.
Good fortune comes in all shapes and sizes, and sometimes travels in a little Mazda pickup. Where it’s headed after a few months is anyone’s guess.
Does it qualify as “living” when all you do is run to your car, into the front doors of your destination, back to your car and, finally, into your house, no pauses or sidetracks?