Saturday, October 15, 2011
.....to the Farmer's Market.
I want some cheese. Smoked Cheddar. Absolutely great on baked potatoes. Plus the da Church Ladies sell some really really nice pumpkin bread. Well.... I run into Dirty Hands Randy, see, and it is cold, see, so it doesn't take him long to talk me into an inside venue... to watch the Badgers beat the loving bejesus outa Indiana... (and have a couple of Bloody Marys)which should not be allowed to field a football team, if you ask me or my nipples, but whose asking anyways, see.
AH, but rambling on is a wonderful thing. Randy and I discussed the Republican candidates, the merits of fresh lime when you make Mojitos, checking out Fritz down in Denver, whether beets cause cancer,what time the Packers SHOULD play on a Sunday, which country Obama was really born in, what ants do all winter, AND what is the point of preparing for bed when you just have to get up and take a leak in a few hours anyways.
Ok.... I didn't have anything to say in the first place. It is time to go home, set the tea kettle on, toast some pumpkin bread.... bring out some marmalade..... count the stars in the sky.....and contemplate how the bears have it correct... just hibernate for the winter. That is how cold it felt. I am a whoos.