Interesante
Asiago bread bites are probably a very terrible idea to begin the morning, I’ve found. While some people get the jitters from coffee, I manage to find the same reaction in bread. But when bread-cravings call, bread-cravings call.
In other news, after dreaming that the vote was determined 60-something/40-something in favor of the Democratic party [I certainly wasn’t hanging around until after midnight to find that one out; also an impossible percentage combination, of course]… I had a laugh that I dreamt about politics at all. Although I still found it fascinating that Puerto Rico seemed to really want that 51st state slot after all these years… Good luck symmetrically wedging that star on the flag. They really ought to come up with a more appealing design anyway. Eye of the beholder, I guess.
“TA DA!”
Puck had flung open the door of his room during Quiet Hour.
“What did you do, buddy?”
“Come and see! I remodeled my room!”
He had, in fact. Nothing too demolition in nature, but there were changes.
“I’m going to remodel all of it. Just like Nana! Dad will be surprised by my work!”
He emerged once again with an armful of colorful World Market floor rug in exchange for the “sweeper pan” [crumb brush] to “make it look good”.
“Mama? Check me to see if I’m acceptable.”
My young chap marched himself into the middle of the living room for inspection. Dinosaur shirt, red track pants tucked into red wellies. All systems go. Even with the Statler Brothers wailing in the background. I sound severe sometimes, I know. If The Bear wants Puck to hear the music, I’ll let him hear the music. But it’s just not really in my blood. I grew up with The Chieftains, John Barry, big band, old cowboy songs, and Lawrence Welk, yes. But it’s just not… my groove. I guess. I can appreciate it still though. And one more thought from the youngster before departure…
“Did God create Himself? Scientists have been trying to figure that out for years.”
Thought of the Day
Are all legends that completely incorrect, really? Many, unless purposefully believed as stories only, seem to have some truth behind the wax. For example, Native Americans once believed that animals audibly spoke, which is why they thank them for giving up their lives as means of nourishment. Greek myths. Many are only ridiculous by rote, it seems. Our own Bible stories are often spectacular, of which one account of course does include a talking donkey. So what’s the difference? We take God’s Word as fact, of course. We accept that a donkey audibly spoke at least one point in history when his mouth was opened. That the serpent spoke and connived. So who is to say that there have not been other animals who have spoken down that wrinkled timeline? Even the bizarre stories may, in some part, retain some twisted [if not incredible] fact from the original moments of its existence.