Because, sometimes, you get the feeling that you're not living in the same world as the everybody else, I offer you the concurrent events in my house RIGHT NOW.
2 kids in the spa tub in the master bathroom imitating whales, 1 teevee iterating all the news that's fit to yawp about the facts on the Baby Jeebus's nemesis the anti-christ, and snow crab legs steaming in a big pot on the stove.
It's like nothing joins up around the edges in my house!
The quiet tub action calls for Lawrence Welk and blankets that smell like lemon balm and naphtha, the teevee calls for a blood ritual or at least a good piercing, and the stove calls for a cool afternoon by the shore in Maine waiting for the boil to be done so that sandy blanket shroud can be pulled from the tomb that holds the lobster and potato(es) and cherrystone clams that will be eaten by a bonfire and toasted with Narragenssett Pale Ale....
Y'all, I have not one clue about how to sew up all those disparate pieces into one whole cloth.
And really, I don't care.
Neatness is overrated.