"It could taste good, but still kill you," he said.
My grandfather: a font of worldly wisdom for the ages.
Haven't picked a berry since I was seven years old.
She hit this wall, man, she quit her job, didn't want to stay in the city, started taking classes, stuff I'd never heard or seen her show any interest in. French cuisine, computer coding, calligraphy, you name it. But I suppose everybody has that stuff, you know? Layers that never see the light of day until life wears you down to them.
My favorite was the belly dancing. Don't get me wrong, the pole dancing class worked for me too, but we didn't have a place we could put a pole at the old house: the bedroom had high ceilings and the living room would have been, I don't know, just weird.
We've got a place out near Olympia now. She's much happier, and I can write anywhere. Lots of trees, got a little dock for a boat, you can sit and watch the sunset. I mostly just watch her.