Today went by rather quickly, says I from an analyzing subjective perspective. It was a usual Monday in terms of the work routine on the farm. The job itself is rather routine, where every Monday through Wednesday is basically the same. Every Monday, I follow the same routine and tasks as any other Monday. It's when we start harvesting the crops for the week and prepping the orders, labeling, sorting, etc. Tuesday is also another harvest day and then more bagging and order prep for all our subscribers. Wednesday is where we move the baby plants into the sections of the greenhouse that we just emptied, which allows them to spread out their leaves and grow into everything they ever wanted to be. And then we cut them and eat them.
I'm sitting in the living room on my laptop right now. Tits McGee is laying on the other couch, reading on her iPad. Occasionally she'll give a little sound, like a “Hmmm”, but in a gentle and positive feel-good tone, which means she read something she felt was interesting, and is nodding with approval. Which then she'll use her little Apple Pencil thingy and highlight what she read, and move on. If she really felt it was cool, she'll ask if she can read it out loud to me, which of course I'll say, “Wooo weee, and shit be golly! You're g'damn right, I want you to read that passage out loud to me, baby. Go ahead and give it to me”.
And then she'll... you know... read it to me.
I'll give a nod of approval, and then just kinda move on with my life.
Sometimes there are days when I hear the same “Hmmm” sound, but in a negative tone, where it's all short and sassy like, very punchy and bold. And that's when Mr. Gr3y knows he's in trouble for a few days, and needs to keep his mouth shut.
Back on the couch... I started reading on my phone (Galaxy S10+) but wasn't in the mood to get deep into a book right now, so I whipped out the laptop to browse around a little, and of course, write. I'm a chronic book starterererer, but I usually don't finish any of them. Although, I tend to give Stephen King a slightly better chance than other authors, just because I'm a long-term fan, and honestly, who doesn't LOVE a massive hit of disappointment at the end of a 1,200-page read.
Kidding, but not really.
I guess I get too distracted with just one book, and get curious about so many other things, so I just give up and move on to something else, starting a new book. Rinse, and repeat. Today I started some new fiction story that was high up on some internet list, about some lady that killed her husband and then kept quiet about it through her entire trial or something, only to have some shocking twist be revealed that made everyone say, “Oh wow, what a shocking twist”. And those people would get online and write a review that said “Oh wow, what a shocking twist”. And then gullible suckers like me scroll through and would read the reviews where people said, “Oh wow, what a shocking twist”, and I'd get curious and want to know what the shocking twist was. But then I won't get to the end of the book and never know what the shocking twist was.
I'm at peace with this.
We made mexi-bowls tonight, and they were awesome. (If you haven't read any of my previous posts, where I described this routine dish that we have, just imagine a super healthy vegan burrito, but instead of it all rolled into a tortilla, you throw all the ingredients into a bowl and scoop it out.)
There. Now you know what I ate tonight. I'm sure you've been dying to know. If this were InstaSnatchaGram, I would post a shitty photo of my food. But, alas, here we are. Hi.
We ate several hours ago, and I still feel bloated and full from it all. I put a lot of hot sauce on it – multiple sauces, actually – which as I'm nearing 40 years old means I have a near sexual relationship with, Tums (I live dangerously).
And you know what!? I'm craving watermelon now, too, but there just ain't no gosh darn diddly tootin' room is this here belly o' mine. But, seriously, what's more satisfying than a very sweet watermelon that is ice-cold? And I know you're going to try and say something about John Stamos' hair, sparkling in the sun, being way more satisfying. But trust me. Watermelon is so much better.
After eating wayyyy too much (and watching an episode of Friends – yeah, that's still happening) we took a huge bag of old sheets, and blankets and towels to my brother's house, who lives just a couple of minutes from me. His dog just had puppies, and he needed some random cloth to help clean up the said event and all its moisty-moistness.
The dog had ten fuggin' puppies! TEN! They just kept coming out, he said. She'd fart and another one would fly out. Then another.
I don't remember what kind of dog she is – some sort of large poodle mix. You know... the one that has fur and legs and ears and all that dog stuff. But oddly enough, he said she has an 'odd' number of nipples. Just FYI. Can't undo that imagine now, can you!
She's really cute and ran out of her room all excited to see us visitors when we showed up. We dropped off the cloth goods, took a peek at the little babies, but kept a distance as momma was keeping an eye on us and being a little protective. My brother is in for a fun ride in a few weeks/months when there are 10 puppies destroying his entire house. It was a short visit, and we returned home to chill and mount our booties on the couches like we are now, to read and relax a little.
Sleep is coming soon though. I can feel it like the old bastard that I am, and I welcome it.
One of the books I have been flipping through lately, and reading here and there, is, The Hobbit. I've never read any of that entire series, and felt it would be cool to get through them. So, I'm giving it a go. A slow go, apparently. But, so far, it seems fun.
Oh, and I guess I'll confess another thing too: I finally read all the Harry Potter books. It only took me about 15 years or so, but, I did it. Any seven-year-old would be so proud of me right now. They are fantastic stories, though.
Well, Tits McGee just went upstairs, so I guess the time of laying horizontally and going unconscious for hours at a time is soon arriving. It's always so fuggin' hot, and the bedrooms are on the third-floor. I keep my AC running almost as hard and long as my ex-wife did with my life savings, and I'm sure my bill for the month is going to be the cause of my pending heart-failure. But, ain't nobody got time to be sleepin' hot and sweaty.
Seriously. It's the worst.
For those that read this, I hope you're doing well. May the Holy Spirit of John Stamos' hair gel be with you, but, trust me. Ice. Cold. Watermelon. Mmmm.
Peace & Plants.
/mg
mrgr3y at protonmail dot com