Meg Merrilies
Her apples were swart blackberries,
Her currants, pods o' broom;
Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,
Her book a church-yard tomb.
Her Brothers were the craggy hills,
Her sisters larchen trees;
Alone with her great family,
She liv'd as
I have a love/hate relationship with ❄️❄️❄️. This weekend, I'm not too happy with it -- it's canceled Christmas parties and our moving truck ????. BUT! I'm making the best of it with cookies, hot cocoa, a fire and slice after slice of this Rosemary Cornme