OK, first off, still celebrating the fact that Katalina Miks has been found as is, according to reports, well and cared for.
Second off, it's after 10, it's raining, and I'm thinking of baking. Um, what?
Third off, that access road the new giant conglomerate of car dealerships put in a few months ago next to Route 1, in the process of which they ripped out a FOREST and paved paradise? Um, thanks. For now. You totally saved us from sitting in traffic on ol' #1 waiting to 'eench' by an accident at 1 and Durant tonight. So, OK, you do have your uses. But did they have to take down ALL those trees, really?
Fourthly, did I mention the baking? That I've been planning to do since about noon? It might be too late for that right now, I'm thinking, but banana bread! Chocolate swirl banana bread! Seriously, is it ever too late for that? EVER?
Also, and quintupally, I folded a metric assload of laundry last night. It did not really help all that much, as apparently there's still an equivalent amount left to do. Some of which involves a very funky-smelling comforter that sat in the machine too long after the first go-round, and smells a little like cheese n' feet. Mostly, laundry around here is done by Biff, but as he's getting ready to start taking a test to see if he knows the bookwork to fly solo, I'm thinking funkylicious quilts are not on the top of his mind right now. Where flying is concerned, there is no higher calling. At least not now, this minute. Not for laundry, anyhow. But hey! If I don't do it, then it doesn't need to get folded and put away! HEY! Cha-ching! And thus an idea of continued slothliness is conceived, gestated, and borne.
Also, I want chickens. People I know, TWO OF THEM, now have chickens. I want me some chickens. Live ones, with pretty feets and curly feathers on their heads and keen lil' eyes and glossy backs. THOSE chickens. My friends have them, why not me? GIMME CHICKENS!
And that, as they say in showbiz, is that. Other people probably say that too, but I'm pretty sure Ethel Barrymore said it first. Maybe Ethel Merman, but if it was EM you can be sure just about everyone knew about it and would be, therefore, easily attributable. Further research is needed on that point.
With that, Tiff out. Perhaps, as they say in show-jumping circles, to 'bake.'