Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Wednesday, January 07, 2004
Pease porridge hot,
Pease porridge cold,
Pease porridge in the pot,
Nine days old.
Not exactly nine days, but last night we had some of the leftover black-eyed peas we fixed for New Year's--I'd forgotten we even had any left. Let me tell you, if there's anything better than a hot mess of fresh black-eyed peas, it's having them after they've had a chance to mellow for a week. Absolutely the best little things in the world, all warm and soft and...I'd better stop now. Anyway, they were so good I made myself a plate of them to bring in my lunch today.
Which I left right there on the top shelf in the refrigerator this morning as I ran out the door. ::sigh:: Oh well, I guess they'll be even better tomorrow.
Pease porridge in the fridge,
Nice and cold.
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