Around here we call breakfast “brek” a lot. As in, “What do you want for brek?” This morning I mentioned that eating cereal then going poop is Brexit. I liked that joke and felt like a kid. Sorry for the potty humor.
I can’t believe how much it’s raining. I wonder what the ground thinks as it swells with water. It had been a long time.
Yesterday thunder boomed and then there was a clattering sound as a lot of hail fell onto the roof and outside; we saw it on the walkway. It seemed sacred, the first hail of the season.
Our friend was here for lunch. The potato soup was delicious. Also we had tea–I had peppermint with lemon balm that they brought, and they had lavender chamomile that I brought. We talked a lot.
I think tomorrow I’m putting onions, garlic, and soyrizo into the beans. Hmm, I wonder if the peace vigil will be called off because of rain.
I had an idea–Potato Mania. My friend suggested Potato Party. For community lunch sometime, I would make potato soup, potatoes au gratin, potato salad, and hash browns. Then maybe veggie sausage on the side.
It sounded fun to me, and a sign saying Welcome to Potato Mania. And I’d like to make a cute potato banner, with drawings of potatoes strung together on string.
Ming is making some fake bacon. I have some new zines.