Proto-Science Run Amok (Or, Where Is The Dead Bird Now?)
“What beautiful feathers!” I say when I open the gift from my seven-year-old. “They’re from a dead bird Theo killed in the yard,” Gareth says,
“What beautiful feathers!” I say when I open the gift from my seven-year-old. “They’re from a dead bird Theo killed in the yard,” Gareth says,
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