A day at Camp Singing Pines after my lover tried to run me up the flag pole for running her underwear up it. It’s her fault she made me promise before she left on her day off not to do it. So I got a CIT to do it instead. It was too bug a challenge not to ignore.
What you can’t see is me trying to remove the wedgie.
Normally when I bake or cook I’m very exact about my measurement of ingredients but it occurs to me that instead of channeling my Great Grandpa Alex on the party mix I’m more like my Great Grandma Hilda on my mom’s other side. She never measured.
That recipe was born out of frustration with the recipes on the box that barely if at all coat the ingredients and I like to be able to taste the Worcestershire sauce.
I’ve never written this one down before but I know what I put in it this morning. LOL!
This is my cure for a depressing day. Yesterday in the morning I learned Lady Olivia had died. Then someone at camps partner’s cancer had returned. Then I learned that one of my favourite CITs from Osito Rancho is in UCLA hospital after fighting ovarian cancer for 10 years and I know that other people I love are fighting their hardest right now to beat the demon cancer. I’m frustrated that all I can do is pray and listen and be there if or when someone calls and it hurts.