The Post Where I Tell You How I've Turned Into Violet Beauregarde. With Spots.

We picked blueberries yesterday afternoon and they are absolutely delicious. I fully intend to bake/make/preserve/freeze something eventually but right now. . . . they are absolutely delicious.

We spent sixteen dollars, and at $1.65/lb, that’s a lot of blueberries. There are still some left, for baking/making/preserving/freezing. I’m going to do that, really I am. Maybe later tonight, after class, around eleven, when it’s cooler. Yes.

Until that time, they are absolutely delicious.

They’re good for you, too, unless you’re diabetic in which case a sensible person would back off a little and save some for baking/making/preserving/freezing.

Last night’s blood sugar level: 368.

Oh, all right, maybe I SHOULD save some for baking/making/preserving/freezing.

The following paragraph contains far too much information. Proceed carefully.

My prediction that I would come home from the blueberry fields covered with chiggers? Unfortunately, quite correct. I look like the children in “Nanny McFee” after they covered themselves with fake measles. Huge red horribly itchy spots, in places you really don’t want to know about. Thank goodness for Rhuli-Gel, or whatever it’s called now that Bactine bought it. That stuff bites hard, but it works. And I know you’re not supposed to use it where the sun don’t shine, but it works there, too. Just to let you know, and my apologies for making you barf on the tops of those nice summer sandals.

Belle and her friends came down last night to save the last remaining kitten from the coyotes, or Beelzebub, or whoever it was that is responsible for the disappearance of the other four. They lured it into the carrier with a piece of ham, and Belle’s friend Monte (the cat whisperer) who can move like the Flash, dashed out onto the deck and closed the door. The original plan was to take it to the Pound, but after spending the night in Belle’s bathroom, the kitten is re-thinking the whole ‘feral lifestyle’ thing and is contemplating behaving himself forevermore because the perks in Belle’s apartment for a well-behaved cat are incredible.

It’s one of the little yellow ones, and it really is adorable.

Eh, well, I fed my daughter and her friends, and honestly tried not to scratch in front of them. I also made persuaded Belle to go out and clean all the poop off the swing, since “her” kitten was responsible. She did it, too.

Yeah, you raise ’em right and they mind you even when they’re adults. And kitten poop is going to be her worst life-problem. Uh huh.

Last night it was, though.

And now I’m going out to the kitchen to do something about those blueberries. While they last.

Seriously, they are sooooo good.

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