I read this book every year I was a teenager.
#bookstr
I always wanted to make dandelion wine back then, but it was hard to find dandelions not likely to have some glyphosate contamination, and even though I acquired the implants and tools, my family were teetotalers which made the basement setup a bit suspicious. Would like to try it now. 
*implements not implants
Ray Bradbury always seemed kind of bland to me; seemed like he was of the pulp fiction era and cranked out the content to pay the bills...
Now Aldous Huxley on the other hand wrote because the genius inside his head is what they world was thirsting to hear
I know what you mean, and his other books didn’t vibe with me at all. This one is different.
May still not be your cup of tea. May not even be mine anymore, but, like Hermann Hesse’s Demian, to a teenage boy it was spot on.
skip the wine, just roast and make tea.
that’s definitely a lot simpler, I mean might as well, could do that quickly and with a lot fewer flowers
the book describes the popping of the bottle in the winter so beautifully, like opening a portal back to summertime
one day I would like to have that experience
