Y'all, this dreariness is bringin' me down. At this point I feel like I should pour a Scotch and turn on some plaintive country music. As a complete aside, my favorite-ever country music song title is "Drop Kick Me Jesus (Through the Goalposts of Life)." Why those parentheses are necessary, I don't know, but I rather like the sound of the whole thing. In any case, this weather is the pits, some sort of horrible purgatory that involves winter, spring and precipitory crap. If I remember correctly, Saturday was nice, but it's been flanked by some awfully dreary days, the kind during which you never really know or care what time it is. Presently, the Meyer lemon jelly I just finished is cooling, and Oliver is pretending to talk on the phone to someone, Behubba, who is being told "your nibbles are dirty and I'll clean them tonight." People, nibbles is how he says nipples. Sweet jesus, I don't even know where this stuff comes from. Jack has taken about 85 years to color approximately 2% of a coloring page he "really, really wanted." Now Oliver is riding on J's back, and they are laughing hysterically. The only bummer about Oliver laughing hysterically is that he always(!) gets the hiccups when doing so. Is that not the saddest side-effect of a delightfully good action?
I just got some fun news. This photo of some farmers market persimmons I took just after bringing them home won FRESHFARM Market's winter produce photo contest and will be published in its upcoming newsletter.
Alright, I guess it's time to throw myself back into the mayhem surrounding me and confront the dreaded hour o' bath- and bedtime.