May-day — I forget whether by Zenobia’s sole decree, or by the unanimous vote of our community — had been declared a movable festival. It was deferred until the sun should have had a reasonable time to clear away the snowdrifts along the lee of the stone walls, and bring out a few of the readiest wild flowers.
Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Blithedale Romance
Maybe 2003? Imagine the crowd at a Daughters/An Albatross show post-You Won’t Get What You Want, then throw Jucifer on the bill just because.
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