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Wake up and smell the bacon

I believe ice cream has magical properties and, when scooped into a pretty glass dish in big round spoonfuls, and topped with homemade caramel sauce and savoured ever so slowly, moves me to write.

Despite the fact that my core temperature has plummeted from eating more than my share of vanilla (and that I can’t feel the tips of my fingers on the keyboard due to the frozen dairy phenomenon), I do believe I am inspired.

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