It’s a beautiful day — just cool enough to turn the air off and open all the windows — and I’m working outside on my back porch. Three dogs are laying at my feet (we’re dogsitting for a friend — I’m sure there’ll be pictures later), and the ice cream truck just drove through my neighborhood. Seriously, an ice cream truck, playing nursery rhymes in a creepy circus-y tone and everything.
I totally feel like a old-timey small-town mama or something. Now where did I hide the booze? I’ve got to get London Bridge is Falling Down out of my head.