Oh, wouldn’t I like to turn back the clock. Or maybe forward. Let’s say forward.
Or venting. I suppose that’s different.
What trust we can muster
It depends on how you look at it.
Dear Feastlings, While this week’s email is a fraction less chipper than that of last week- admittedly, I counted some of those chickens before they were hatched- it still feels as though we’re on track to better our situation in time for the busy season. We’re seeing a few of you trickle back into town […]
I can. Or at least I can smell it, and it smells amazing.
You’ve already seen more behind the curtain than you care to, I reckon.
Or being whittled, anyway.
But we are.
Assuming I’m able.