Gardens are not made by singing 'Oh, how beautiful!' and sitting in the shade. - Rudyard Kipling, Complete Verse It was a tangle of brambles and ivy, a wilderness of sticks and dried grass and odd and unknown stalks of something or other sticking heavenward willy-nilly across the landscape. The old wooden gate pushed open to ...
Golden Grand Marnier Bundt
Did you ever sleep in a field of orange-trees in bloom? The air which one inhales deliciously is a quintessence of perfumes. This powerful and sweet smell, as savoury as a sweetmeat, seems to penetrate one, to impregnate, to intoxicate, to induce languor, to bring about a dreamy and somnolent torpor. It is like opium ...