Overflow for a quiche experiment
A strange way to mix home and church: treating me as the overflow for a quiche experiment. There’s a breakfast in the parish hall tomorrow morning (I won’t be there). The two and a bit more pans of egg delicacy are done, and I’ve finished a small one all by myself. Doing my part, etc.
What with the heavy weather inbound in Florida, I decided to check out the various webcam feeds. Getting dark, now, and the image is dim, but I can make out that concrete pillar at the southernmost point. Right beside “Fred the Shed”. The chat window is full of praise over its steadfast resistance. Of course, it’s still early. By tomorrow morning, Fred and his friend might well be gone.
For now, though… clean. Waveswept clean.
Outside, what might be the final campfire of the summer. Something about burning off the last of the sack of kindling. I have a standing invitation to come and sit beside, but there’s little wind and a lot of flying insects. My blood supply is finite.
In T.O. (no, not the only city in Canada), the Ford circus has awoken from its hibernation. I’m a political junkie, but real junkies shouldn’t be allowed to share space on the ballot. Just saying, eh.
And with that, I had better do something useful around here. Filling the dishwasher is noble, but “that don’t impress me much” to quote the Shania. Maybe I can create a masterpiece out of nothing. Or find a suitable alternative in the back catalog of Amazon.
