tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7710579058947001216.post6966563008334186474..comments2024-03-23T09:50:15.170-05:00Comments on True Complaint--Shakespeare, Law, and Other Whimsies: As With CollardsGretchen Sweenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05623987678999643283noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7710579058947001216.post-49817260399631800302012-06-19T04:23:32.893-05:002012-06-19T04:23:32.893-05:00My mother used to send me to our neighborhood park...My mother used to send me to our neighborhood park to pick dandelions so she could boil them to submission and feed them to me, for my health. And, sadly, there were no Cliff's notes for dandelions spiced with traces of every dog for which they had been an appealing place to find relief.<br /><br />In spite of all this, I have always found dandelion flowers and seed heads strangely beautiful. Life is complex. So, I must admit, is Skakespeare.Algyroshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07237694624266634982noreply@blogger.com