I wonder whether I will ever look at hard squash at five o'clock, or six o'clock, or six thirty, at the end of a long day in the middle of the semester, and say: yes.
I wonder if I will still have dried cherries in December, when I will need some for the baking.
I wonder if it is time to go to the store for more almonds.
Please, foodstuffs lying on my table, reveal your secret logic to me in the form of a menu.
I'm really, really hungry.
Dinner did not magically make itself? I am shocked!ReplyDelete
A metaphor for writing poetry?ReplyDelete
And if it were me, I'd say screw it and go buy myself a mashed potato bowl at KFC. Which I did last night.ReplyDelete