Coronavirus restrictions mean that you may need to change your travel plans. But the Butter Gods smiled on us that day.
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I think I pooped myself slightly; it is difficult to remember the exact moment the deluge began. The Butter was so rich and earthy, seex had the mouthfeel of a delicate, fancy-person artisanal cheese. Dave and I placed The Butter on the wood-block kitchen counter to unwrap and ni. Even with a threat of possible maiming, he barely flinches. I viewed The Butter as a mythical gift; it had stayed with me through the Howard Johnson Disaster of — it was somehow both a harbinger and a savior.
Nothing was more lkg than a sinful pat of butter spread sexily across a slice of church potluck bread. It was romantic as fuck.
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It was mine. The concrete floor was radiantly warmed by hot water pipes below.
For like 24 hours? At Thanksgiving we sit down and plan our Christmas meals. When I was young, butter was widely accepted as evil. We were almost to Black River Falls when I spotted a cute general store on the side of the road and insisted we stop for wine. And really, we do.
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When I was younger, I imagined marriage and love differently than what it turned out to be. Make your great escape We make it a doddle to book campsites, glamping sites and caravan parks throughout the UK, Europe and the Americas. Chicago has one of the largest Polish diasporas in the world, so Pulaski Day is a relatively big deal. We finally lured Elsie back with the false promise of treats.
He and the dumb dogs are my team. In addition to The Butter, that weekend gave me a deeper appreciation for Dave.
After one more day, I was finally again able to eat The Butter. All dairy is vital to the Midwest. I was certain that my future husband and I would have endless romantic moments.
He conceded. I fell in and out of nightmares; a looming orange fiberglass moose with a sadistic clown smile appeared repeatedly in my subconscious. These holidays included Martin Luther King Jr. We ate an uneventful, dissatisfying dinner. Cabn was bad enough that I was violently ill. Finally, I took a wool, moose-printed blanket from the sofa and curled into a ball on the heated concrete floor.
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Back at the cabin, The Butter quietly waited for us. Dave had stripped down to a T-shirt.
I swatted his stupid hand away. Pulsating slightly, as though alive?
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Dave always sticks by my side. It was late by the time we arrived, so we lovingly rewrapped The Butter and placed it in the fridge. We drove around for an hour, realizing that all but one of the restaurants in Black River Falls was closed on Sunday night. We were really looking forward to this weekend.
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View Log-cabin Pics and every kind of Log-cabin sex you could want - and it will always be free! To prove his point, he cut off a large hunk of The Butter and ate it plain. The next several hours were spent chasing our insubordinate dogs through deep snow in the Black River Forest. That night I had a series of bad nightmares.
Snow thickened as the Honda trudged further north. We managed to make The Butter last until the final snow of early April, keeping it frozen in several small chunks to ensure not a single molecule spoiled and went to waste. Starving and cranky from blaming each other about the lack of available establishments, we pulled the Honda sed the HoJo parking lot. When will campsites and caravan parks open in the UK?
Tenderly, Dave cut off a slim slice and smiled as he placed it on my tongue. The next major comic-book villain will be powered by margarine, no doubt. Our dog children burst from the Honda and ran circles through fresh snow.
Gradually, science showed us the danger of trans fats and the relative innocuity of dairy butter. Mom: You will be here at 7 tomorrow night, right?