Words and the world passing by; how it sings to me; how I clamour back.
Several times a day I make my husband groan Now that one’s not a euphemism, though it could be, I own… But he despairs of my wit, or my attempt at it The egg-cessive ingredients in the omelette Working it out with a pencil… Continue Reading “NaPoWriMo Day Fourteen: A Pun, My Soul”