“I cannot be a monk, nor a crusader, nor a tumbler. I must stay
here and hem sheets until I die. My humors are greatly out of balance. I
prescribe for myself wormwood and spiced wine and some of the custard
left from supper, and I will let all of the dogs sleep in my bed.”
Tuesday, June 10, 2025
I will let all of the dogs sleep in my bed.
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