Thank goodness I had two e-mails in my inbox this morning from my favorite person in the world, Christopher Kimball. His folksy ramblings about life in Vermont were just what I needed to slow down and appreciate all that is good in my life. (Ha. Ha. Ha.)
I give you the first paragraph:
Our family just attended the annual Fireman's Banquet. The folks at Sherman's store did the catering-turkey with stuffing, mashed potatoes, mixed vegetables, and, of course, homemade apple pie for dessert. George Lewis, the fire chief, announced that Betty Bentley had passed-Betty was famous for her baked beans. Abby Farrar was also remembered-she could be counted on for peeling potatoes and making her beloved scalloped potatoes. Merritt Morey (I knew his father from years ago) stood up to give the gag gifts. As he pointed out, "Well, as the years pass, it's getting harder and harder to find just the right gift, but the good news is that, eventually, you all screw up, which makes my job a lot easier."I'm not sure I really understand Merritt Morey's quote, but maybe that's because I don't live in Vermont.
It's all downhill from there, really, including a "joke" about a woman who has had her dead husband dug up and reburied three times, musings on his family's trip to Vietnam (evidently dragonfruit is "indifferent-tasting"), and advice on horse buying. Oh, yes, and plenty of shameless self-promotion.
Where's that unsubscribe button? Gar, the man is such an ass.
Real update soon. By "real," I mean more on underwear, first birthday parties, dancing, and home improvement. I also have a half-finished post on eating habits (adult and kid) that I'll try to finish up. If only I didn't have to work . . .