I watched half of the "Half-Blood Prince" on my flight back from Princeton two weeks ago (with take-off and landing, I could only sneak in half on that 4-hour flight). Now I find myself sick to the bones with wishful thinking; I picture myself in dear old dreary London for the holidays. Outside it's blizzarding quite dreadfully. I wish it were
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Though I still can't help but cringe at the words 'clotted cream'. You'd think the Brits would realize that tasty things should have tasty-sounding names.
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