International Talk Like a Pirate Day.
Have yerself a fine one, ye landlubbin scallawags!
|Mrs. Anke's Ruin|
I just love the way it looks. That alone is enough for me to enter her contest to win a free bottle. However, she has stated that she hopes I don't win because of what she would have to endure at the post office. If I do (which I doubt), I think I'd just ask her to hang onto my bottle until I can get over to Royal Tunbridge Wells. There's nothing I want more from that trip (when/if it happens... a booksigning, perhaps? I mean, since my trilogy takes place there...) than to go pub crawling around the Wells with Mrs. Anke, but I fear that after a few nips of this beautiful brew, we wouldn't see many pubs. And if we did, I doubt I'd remember much about them.
If you haven't checked out Mrs. Anke's Ladybits, then you really should. And you should enter the contest, too. Tell her I sent you.
Labels: Blogsville and the Web
My beef isn't only about being uncomfortable. Lawns, trees and flowerbeds died, kids couldn't go outside (NObody could), so everyone has cabin fever, the state was riddled with wildfires and drought, and families had to decide whether to buy food or pay criminally high utility bills. And, of course, this is the summer that the AC in the car went out. Have you ever driven around in a black automobile in 115-degree heat with no AC? This is the worst summer I've lived through and I'm glad it's nearly over.
Labels: Pointless Venting