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To the rump can be three generations of pilgrims
that in his daily habit have got up early and are approaching, in his first
walk, to the workshop. The day gives much and already early leaves his chair to meet the demand. Knead the flour and shape it to bake. Roof of uralite, green that I want green, ephemeral shadow for a well-cooked tender bread, its special smell advances to us the flavor, crunchy crust and crumb that soaks the oil in the hole, Manjar of many memories. Contrast of color and fine sand, carpets in its path, recreation and labor strive to give a good celebration. Follow the Village growing. Dr. Abad |
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