I’m deadlining madly for the next two weeks. And when not making my way through a pile of assignments, I’ll be making my way to Montana and back.
It’s a whirlwind trip; just a few days. But the cause is excellent. A rancher — and blog reader — and his wife (who he says is a much nicer person than he is) are giving me a side of organically raised grass-fed Highland beef and are paying part of the cost of the freezer to house it. All I have to do is cover the butcher’s fees. My friend L., whose vehicle is big enough to haul this bounty, gets half the meat in exchange for making the trip with me.
This is all great for us, of course. Amazing, in fact. But between deadlines and travel, you may get “lite” blogging into early September. (You never know, though; often, the moment I say I won’t have anything to say, I’m struck with a burst of
brilliance deep thoughts words. So we’ll see.)
In the meantime, with brain tired from a day of actual WERK, here’s some “lite” stuff I’ve been saving up for a while.
I can’t grow anything. Really, notoriously, I can’t. When plants see me approaching with good intentions, they shrivel. I swear I can hear their little vegetable voices shrilling, “No! No! Don’t touch me!” But when I finally just give up and let the old garden area here get taken over by weeds and let the dogs lie in the weeds and crush them, what do I get?
A healthy harvest of elephant garlic! I should try neglect more often.
Consider yourself warned!
This is a bag of peanuts. Sort of obvious, yes?
Well, brace yourself. You will be shocked — simply shocked! — to learn that it contains:
Yes — “peanut ingredients”! Oh, the horror. (Actually it is sort of horrible, rather like “pasturized processed cheese food.”) I ate them anyway.
Robbie is my oldest, and secretly my favorite, dog. I’ve always been fascinated by his coloring but too intimidated to try to capture it in a painting or drawing. Such a complex pattern. But those brindle markings make great camouflage.
Can you spot the dog in this picture?
Robbie’s not very active. Even when not in full camo, he can frequently be mistaken for a garden gnome
But mostly, he blends in pretty much everywhere — particularly in places he is Not Supposed to Be. Here he is, cleverly disguised as a pillow.