Author: doug

They’re reconfiguring the road in front of my workplace, as I’ve commented on before.  They’re about to make major changes, and here they’re harvesting the historic cobblestones, which I’m sure will fetch a good price from landscapers.

What’s this? A horrible ironic incident in which I cut off an entire finger of my new cut-proof gloves? No, it just turned inside out when I took it off. And that’s carrot juice, not blood.

I *was* going to try to be productive this morning. Gandalf on my feet was bad enough. But then Ferrous came and half-burrowed under the blanket on my lap.

No, these are not old wrinkled oranges — they’re quite fresh.  These are “Sumo Mandarins” from Boston Organics.

Why yes, in fact I am browining slices of sous-vided beef tongue for our dinner. Why do you ask?

It’s my desk, cleaner than it’s been in months. I had to clean it off to get our taxes done.

Not my hairline (have you *met* me?), but — thankfully — the snow line.

This goldfinch is only barely starting to get his summer plumage: just a tiny patch of bright yellow in the middle of the back. His uncooperative friend (behind the feeder) is much further along.

 

Hard-shelled winter lobster: 1; old, cheap kitchen shears: 0.

(If you’re not seeing it, the handle broke and they’re now pretty painful to use)