Don't Cry Over Spilt Milk Day

Along with it being the above, it is also White T-Shirt day. I don't know if I have a pure white t-shirt any longer after working at Susie's. Do you know how hard it is to get lobster squirty stuff that flies out like a child flinging a hose about out of your clothes? But I'll do my best. Just don't ask or stare at any stains please. It's not my fault.

It is also Inventor's Day. Maybe someone will invent a thing for opening spiny lobsters safely. Something like those incubators premature babies are put into, with the plastic lines holes for one's hands to reach in. Except instead of a darling wee one, there would be a spiny lobster, no longer elusively alive but viciously dead, ready to pierce my skin and squirt juice into my eye. I have the last laugh of course, when finally the tail is hacked cut through and I manage - in a little game I play to see if I can - to pull out that succulent meat in one humongous piece. Oops! how did that little bit fall into my mouth? I have NO idea (but I did go wash my hands, promise).

A morning wander in the yard after watering the gardens...