Wednesday, June 22, 2016

Sometimes advertising works and I don't have to cook dinner...

It's Wednesday.  The full moon is past.  And, I am exhausted...and a little punch drunk giddy from the tired.  Every single month I do not sleep more than 2 or 3, maybe 4 hours a night (if I am lucky) the couple of nights before and the night of the full moon.  Don't have to look at a calendar or even the sky to know what the lunar phase is.

We have been busier than normal at the shop and I was helping on the production floor for a little while this evening, when I became fixated on one of the sponsors listed on the back of the motorcycle ride shirts being printed.  With every shirt, my eyes went straight to that sponsor.

 Seal and Tocq with the rest of the crew impatiently waiting to be let into the chicken yard for their nightly feast of plantain and clover.

I was tired and beginning to get a little hangry as my lunch of ham/swiss quiche and watermelon was wearing off at warp speed.  Taunting me with mental smells and imagining the tastes of salty peanuts, honey cinnamon butter melting, a big slab of beef and the fluffiness of a baked potato all washed down with a short.  (can you guess where?)

 Something has taken up residence under the concrete slab in the barn.  We are currently playing a game of dig in/dig out catch me if you can.

Fortunately, my dearest was in agreement with my proposed plan of ditching the menu board at home that said I was going to be baking hamburger buns and he was going to be grilling burgers for said buns.  No, no, no...must be waited on tonight.

 Poor Earl, he has such a rough life.

We went. We ate.  We drank.  Perhaps the waiter was perceptive enough to notice my need for sleep.  He chose to ignore my order of a short beer, bringing me a tall instead.  The frosty mug and puffs of cold air when I took my first gulp were enough to convince me there was no need to point out his mistake.   After all, who am I to second guess waitstaff that intuitively knows that a short would quench my thirst, but a tall would make me sleepy sleepy sleepy.

 
Shhhh, don't tell the other four kitties, but this guy is my favorite.

And that, my friends, is the story of how a stupid t-shirt helped me take a nap.

Proof that there is still some fiber processing being done.  The first bobbin of Rose is nearly ready to be plied.  



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