Wade Hatton:
Thirty years ago, my father met my mother at the Londonderry fair. He'd come down to sell some prize pigs. Big, fat, lovely pigs they were. And mother was down there after winning the grand prize for her roses. Roses of Sharon, enormous, big things, as big as your face and nearly as beautiful. I don't suppose there were ever roses like that in the whole length and breadth of Ireland. Well, what must happen? The very last day of the fair, father's pigs get out and eat up every single one of mother's prize roses. Root, stem, flower and all. Now, did any two people ever get off to a worse start than that? Look at them now: six big lusty sons, a score or so of prize pigs, and the most beautiful rose garden in the whole of Antrim.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:26
Consiglia
Voto
Nessun dato in archivio
Commenti
Nessun dato in archivio
