Chickadees, the long weekends speed by.
If only Monday-Wednesday could move at the same pace, we’d be to the weekend in no time.
In any case, I spent the weekend eating, visiting, tasting wedding cakes (the verdict: they’re all pretty much delicious), and bringing home my very first wedding gift, which included knives, a shiny new Kitchen-Aid mixer, and…a cleaver.
Too bad I hadn’t waited a month or so on that duck.
Now I feel like I should do it again- a cleaver must be a much less traumatic beheading tool.
Please ignore me when I say things like that.
In any case, I am now downing coffee and readying myself to get back out in the rain (which apparently has no plans to stop anytime soon), which means finding an umbrella.
The last time I needed an umbrella, just a week or so ago, I got downstairs with it only to realize that it was, like most other umbrellas I’ve encountered in my life, broken.
Flustered, I simply put up my hood.
And for some reason, stashed my umbrella in the mailbox.
I didn’t give it another thought, until I got home from work and JW asked me if I had any idea why there might be an umbrella in the mailbox.
“It was broken” seemed a logical explanation, but even more logical was JW’s thought that I could have perhaps taken five extra steps to actually put the umbrella in the trash can.
Live and learn chickadees.
Now I’m off to find myself a (hopefully) working umbrella.
Happy Monday, chickens!