Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Well bury me in your chip bag remnants-

Gross actually, but I usually wonder what to do with the salt accumulated at the bottom of chip bags and cracker boxes. Perhaps some hardy raccoon is licking them up as I write these speculations. Perhaps they just juice together with old trash bags and dry all retired goods into a crust of abundance.

I always think about where I can put this salt to good use. We don't have any horses, so nobody is around to lick all that excess salt up. You can't just drink it. I'm telling you, that was not a question. It's ok really, because we don't eat many chips or crackers- so we don't run into my Depression era sensibilities much with that conundrum. Thank goodness.

Charles is a sweet man who instead of getting mad, gets even. Thanks for being a genius AND patient with me. We crazy people can only get so far on intelligence fumes. Meanwhile, the blue sheets I've mentioned in previous posts could and totally do double for a spider's web, since we always get wrapped up in them and I feel the claustrophobia closing me into the abyss of..wait, I wanted to get those. They were so soft.
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Last night I dreamed I was working at McDonald's again- just like during high school. I was late; in my dreams I am always panicking about something. Also, I had quit my current full-time job to make fancy animals. Thanks for encroaching into my dreams Mom.

The tub turkeys have flown the coop and may have dribbled onto our bathroom rug- to the laundry with you, bathroom rug. It happened this morning as Charles was taking the turkeys out of their old bags and putting them into new, dry bags. It hurt me to see all those bags in the trash, but I've been saving my  chip salt, so I'm doing my part. For now.

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