I have my mother’s feet but my daddy’s hands. My hands, they are my father’s (except his are not as big as mine), I have my mum’s chubby feet with the rounded toes. Of course I don’t mean literally their hands or feet, but in a way, I do.

 

I also get my doggegness and grit and stamina from my mother and my work ethic and skill from my father.

 

I have my daddy’s hands but my mamma’s feet. I don’t mean that literally, except I do.

 

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I just stopped at a farm house and got me some home made goat cheese with honey and bread, a coffee, and a Galician empanada. So I ain’t missing none of y’all. 

 

Except, now everyone is speaking Galician and I ain’t following as much as I normally do.  

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