Me: ok, a shark is fun but I don't know that I'll... THESE GEESE ARE AMAZING. WHEN IS SUMMER?
My eldest daughter had an existential crisis yesterday coming to the realization that nothing we'll do will have a lasting impact, someday the whole planet will burn up, and we'll all be gone. We're just a blip in time and space. So she said, you might as well try to be a happy blip.
My mom taught me how to make a turkey out of the top of a pineapple and some colored construction paper. It was always my favorite part of Thanksgiving.
I will be honest, i didn't expect shit to get that deep after laughing at the silly goose photo. But I agree. It reminded me of the night after my dad died:
It was summer. My sister and I went out to the garage and sorted through his prized possessions, the vinyl records. We opened up the garage door, blasted Willie Nelson's Greatest Hits, and drank bud light from the coozies we inherited. Smoked a little bit and made popcorn. It was a really shitty summer, but joy was a garnish.
When my granny was in the ICU for an extended period, my extended family made up a game called "Bobcat" to pass time in the waiting room. The rules were constrained by what we could find in the hospital gift shop (chiefly, a small stuffed bobcat). Bobcat became a fixture at family gatherings for years after.
I adore absurd garnishes (and still can't get over that kale went from "dont eat the garnish" to "smoothie ingredient"), and am so delighted that haterade will grace my inbox once a month!!
Can we call it Proustian, that this jolted me into the recollection that all the female members of my immediate family took to turning crookneck squashes into penguins at one point in my childhood? It lasted no more than a season, as the faff of placing clove eyes into a squash was considered too much faff by my mother. Anyhow delighted you're back.
Thank you for 'sharkuterie'
+1
Me: ok, a shark is fun but I don't know that I'll... THESE GEESE ARE AMAZING. WHEN IS SUMMER?
My eldest daughter had an existential crisis yesterday coming to the realization that nothing we'll do will have a lasting impact, someday the whole planet will burn up, and we'll all be gone. We're just a blip in time and space. So she said, you might as well try to be a happy blip.
“We three geese disoriented are." - gold
My mom taught me how to make a turkey out of the top of a pineapple and some colored construction paper. It was always my favorite part of Thanksgiving.
Oh, I love that! Thanks for next year’s inspiration…
If making goose-friends out of vegetals isn't a way to cope with grief, I don't know what is.
What were their names?
Thank you for the question. From left to right: Dale, Bambi, and Cooter.
"Joy doesn't cover grief. they coexist"
I will be honest, i didn't expect shit to get that deep after laughing at the silly goose photo. But I agree. It reminded me of the night after my dad died:
It was summer. My sister and I went out to the garage and sorted through his prized possessions, the vinyl records. We opened up the garage door, blasted Willie Nelson's Greatest Hits, and drank bud light from the coozies we inherited. Smoked a little bit and made popcorn. It was a really shitty summer, but joy was a garnish.
I love that image.
When my granny was in the ICU for an extended period, my extended family made up a game called "Bobcat" to pass time in the waiting room. The rules were constrained by what we could find in the hospital gift shop (chiefly, a small stuffed bobcat). Bobcat became a fixture at family gatherings for years after.
Welcome back. I never thanked you for the sticker, which lives on my Millennial security Nalgene and brings me joy every day. So thank you!
I adore absurd garnishes (and still can't get over that kale went from "dont eat the garnish" to "smoothie ingredient"), and am so delighted that haterade will grace my inbox once a month!!
Can we call it Proustian, that this jolted me into the recollection that all the female members of my immediate family took to turning crookneck squashes into penguins at one point in my childhood? It lasted no more than a season, as the faff of placing clove eyes into a squash was considered too much faff by my mother. Anyhow delighted you're back.
The feminine urge to create a vegetable bird—
Can you put a picture in the comments?
Hmm…not sure! What do you want a picture of?