Not even a full bunch, I think.
Johnsonville makes an andouille. Except it isn’t. If it were a real andouille, I wouldn’t have lived through whacking off a chunk and eating it. A little creeper hot, but mostly an excellent texture. We put it in mac and cheese, the gourmet pre-packaged stuff. Not a good match. I think home-made mac and cheese could be awesome with this.
Goldfinches! on my sunflowers! eating seeds. I was really excited. Then they left.
Tomorrow! 95 degrees! We’re putting in the air conditioner! The last week of August!
I really! Need a break!
The wind tonight sounds just like September, making me a little on edge, rustling inside like the leaves on the trees. Like that line from Raymond Chandler, I think, about the Santa Anna winds, and housewives fingering the edge of their knives. On the plus side, there’s a gazillion little bugs in the house, giving Katniss some much-appreciated exercise.
I’m going to get in my car maybe Thursday or Friday, and go for a good long drive by myself, come back a little less distracted. Too much people for me. Like somebody said to me, I only have so many words per day, and I’m running a deep deficit.
Purple flowers, for a change.