A recent text from my little brother, Jonny:
Why are you at lunch instead of at home updating your blog? You have your fans to consider, you know. We made you what you are, and we can take it away.
This from the kid I took a charging cow to the gut for when he failed to heed my warning to stay away from her calf.
(I subscribe to the notion once you save a person's life you should never let him forget it...especially when he threat-texts you to update your blog.)
Hey Jonny: I wasn't even at lunch. I was home playing scullery maid. Franchement. I'm waiting until you come visit so we can eat this town out of miso ramen!
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Has it really been ages since I last touched down at Tollipop? Is my cranberry chutney already yesterday's news? Because I had to take out ten whole cloves to make it and now I'm in the witness protection program, dear reader, waiting for my car to blow up.
Only a fool would crush ten whole cloves with the flat of her blade and not expect major repercussions. And it's not like I can count on my little brother to save me, franchement. It's more like he's on their side.
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Anyway, beyond that, it's pretty much business as usual around these parts.
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If you count cellists in cat hats as usual. Which I do. I don't even bat an eye.
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Not to mention this fantastic injury I sustained out on a recent trail run. I know--it's not that impressive from a blood and guts perspective but just consider the artistry!
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Sophie's club volleyball season started this week. Say good-bye to my creative little papercutter...say hello to my amazon slayer who breathes fire down the nets.
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And on it goes. It's that time of year when my friends text me to see if we can carpool to this or that rehearsal/performance/concert and I have no idea what they're talking about. Terrifying.
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So, dear Jonny and anyone else who threatens to topple the Tollipop empire if I don't stay two steps ahead of the curve: there could be some irregularities around this joint for the next little while. It could be I'm hiding in a corner somewhere, or up a tree, hoping the clove mafia and all my uber competent mom friends find someone else to bully and synchronize schedules with.
I'm not trying to be a wise guy. I'm not trying to make waves.
Let's everyone just step away from the calendar and breathe...