“I long to paint Marmee at her toils one day,” murmured Amy, coiling an already-perfect gossamer curl around a finger. Somewhere in the room, Beth coughed weakly.

“Christmas won’t be Christmas without that gloppy bivalve soup Marmee likes to serve at the holidays,” exclaimed Jo, lying on a rug near the hearth, a book propped in front of her. Her sisters cooed in agreement. “Just what Pilgrim would have craved for his journey,” agreed practical Meg.

When I was growing up my mother insisted on making oyster stew on Christmas Eve. She claimed it was a dish my father grew up with and requested. I have no idea if that is true, all I know is that it was like a bowl of hot cream and butter with lumps of phlegm in it. 🤢

My daughter, in her bat mitzvah presentation: God is not a people person.

Disapproving budgie.

Yeah, that metaphor deserved to be weeded out not unlike…you know, an unruly stand of bamboo.

Honestly, they were clearly destined to be together, if only to prevent innocent people from being ensnared in horrible relationships with horrible mates.

Teeth, liver, fingernails, hair…gonna be nothing left of me by the midterms.

Me listening to Smoltz every dang time:

From red north Georgia. Never count us out.

Georgian here. I’m almost certain her recent change of heart is due to pushback from her voters and/or polling showing how unpopular maga policies are in her district. She is always looking out for herself. If someone else benefits, that’s just a happy coincidence.

Will you have any staff or reps at any of the other protests in the district?

That’s a deluxe snuffle mat! Wonderful activity for him (and entertainment for you)! ❤️

😱

So jealous!!! ❤️