Now that my balcony pottery collection is completely burn out by the early morning frost of these days or resting safely under a small glasshouse of fortune, it's time to dig around the archive and take out some good samples of the beauties that brought some spots of color to the reddish monotony of the floor, the nearby roof tiles and walls. This makes me feel just like a genuine wine maker, who, after some months of ageing in the cellar, proudly invites you to taste his best juice.
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