Luckiest Woman Alive

Everyday I win a couple lotteries. Today, I hit the jackpot and won 5, count 'em five. Nor only that, but there are at least half a dozen Nigerians per day who are willing to pay big bucks for my compassion and assistance.

You know, of course, that I am talking of SPAM. My email address gets harvested by every spammer/scammer known on the net. Bah, humbug. I do worry about those who actually open those emails and find themselves conned.

In our household, we've always had a healthy (heh heh) liking for SPAM, sliced and fried until brown and served with tiny canned peas and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese in a box. This meal is the perfect antidote to any food snobbery that might be lurking in the raddichio. Naturally we buy low-salt Spam.

Once an adult male relative (AMR) was unexpectedly visited by a friend of ours, and alas, there was no food in the house and she was at the door at dinnertime. Did he falter? Nope. He opened a can of SPAM, scored it like a ham, poked cloves into the scoring, made a nice glaze of mustard and brown sugar and baked it up. She said it was good. You just need the right about of Sang Froid to pull off a thing like that.

After all the whining and bitching and moaning I've done lately, an agent wrote today asking for the full manuscript to World of Mirrors. He had liked the first 30 pages, and so obviously the query and/or the synopsis did not send him running for the hills. Hope ye olde printer will be up for one more big run.

It is hot and humid and the mosquitoes are bad bad bad. We have a bunch of very tiny goslings in the slough. Have seen the geese feeding down there all spring. I hope that they will be all right. There were two goslings with their ma by the side of the road on route 140 in a very bad spot, where traffic isn't likely to stop. I have seen geese with young 'uns in some crazy places.

Big Mama, aka Maggie, the largest of the Highland Scottish cows looks preggers again. She is still nursing the calf from late last fall.

I always find something to worry about. So it goes.

Grapeshot