Spring Day for those of us who domicile at the bottom of the planet. It was a miserable, overcast day. The two weeks leading up to the first of September always seem to be glorious… and then the actual day marking the transition always turns out to be a damp squib.
Now that I think about it I don’t actually know what a squib is, damp or otherwise.
Apparently it’s a firecracker that fails to ignite. I petitioned the oracle of Google and it blessed me with knowledge.
While we are on the topic of obscure anglo-locution. I read the Rime of the Ancient Mariner last night, and now know the origin of the term ‘the albatross around ones neck’. Also I couldn’t shake the feeling that this particular ode had a definite diegesis of Pirates of the Caribbean about it. (Although maybe that should be the other way around)
In other news it was the sperm-ovum combo #2’s first day of school today. I say school… but really we just sent her to destroy somebody else’s home for four hours…
I know, it looks harmless enough. Trust me when I say this is reverse Batesian Mimicry in truest form. And while I am not a… eh… zoologist, I imagine thats when something dangerous takes on the form of something cute… and pink. But is actually the destroyer of worlds.
Four hours of amazing-ness! Me and the wife went for breakfast. BY OURSELVES! We had civil conversation… and didn’t have to apologize to anyone afterwards. It was so wonderful. I am moved to tears now that the memories come flooding back.
Also, check out my strawberries. Which isn’t a euphemism for anything. I mean actual strawberries
I built these vertical strawberry planter… eh.. things out of PVC and… well actually just PVC… and one of those drill bits that lets you cut really big holes. (I forget what its called)
Anyway, its working amazingly well and I now have one million Strawberries. Okay… maybe not quite that many, but at least a couple hundred. Which feels like a win.
Maybe I’ll make jam. And scones. And then fight with people about whether the dollop of cream goes on first or the actual confiture. Seriously, there are savages out there that CANNOT be reasoned with.
I’m lying on the bottom bunk of my other daughters bed. She actually fell asleep ages ago, but I’ve been supine’d here, clacking away at this post…
… the German Shepherd has decided enough is enough… and is now gnawing on my thumb.
Also, I feel like a cup of tea.