Come rambling awhile through this exquisite weather Of days that are fleet to pass, When the stem of the willow shoots out a green feather, And buttercups burn in the grass! –Edgar Fawcett (1847–1904) |
| THE OLD FARMER SELECTED THESE PRODUCTS FOR YOU |
New to this newsletter? It’s free! Sign up here. You are receiving this e-mail message because you subscribed at our Web site: Almanac.com If you do not wish to receive our regular e-mail newsletter in the future, please click here to unsubscribe.
*Please do not reply to this e-mail* Visit our Web site Help page to report corrections or inquire about your online account, products, editorial, and technical issues. For reprinting and reuse, see our Terms of Use. © 2020 Yankee Publishing Inc. All rights reserved. |
|
|
|
|