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Where art thou, oh, precious spectacles?

Ode to my ‘flying glasses’: O most precious spectacles, thou art fled!Mine eyes, now prisoners to mist obscure,Do mourn thy absence like the waning moon,Deprived of night’s celestial glow impure.…

Potato Chips<?> aka Crisps

Felt like potato chips, but living in the countryside and closest store closed at 6pm (currently 11pm). So I sliced some potatoes, baked in the oven at 150°C for 20min.…