Yesterday, I went to a celebration on one of the Gulf Islands. It was held on the wooded property belonging to my great uncle and aunt.
“Those trees were ARBUTIFUL,” said one of my cousins.
“I, for one, hated to LEAVE the place,” replied another.
“Those puns go to the FIBRE of my being,” I said, BRANCHING out to tenuously related material and perhaps BARKING up the wrong tree.