On Absolutely Nothing.

I have neither pickles nor peaches nor jam bubbling on the stovetop, and it’s before midnight, yet here I sit, lining letters in a row. A late summer lull, brought on by my not checking the garden today and by my generous mother not ringing the bell with arms brimful of the fruits of her labor, allows me to single-task tonight— a most welcome change from the juggling routine.

I’m paralyzed by a clogged snapshot drain.
Too many pictures give a stuttering tongue and halting speech, or at least their equivalent in my fingertips. I’m no mathematical whiz, but I figure that two or three more Monster Snapshot Posts like tonight’s may catch me up to today.

The wonderful Owen Sr. Family left yesterday morning after spending a few days with us celebrating Millie’s fake birthday. The girl really lucked out this year. On her actual birthday, she was The Birthday Girl (which, as anyone knows, comes with lots of perks); the day after, she had her birthday party with tuzzin-chums, sweets, and presents; then on Saturday, we celebrated her fake birthday with Grandma and Grandpa Owen and Sarah. A daytrip to the Discovery Center, a restaurant feast, and an ice cream cake served as harbingers to even more presents. We told her that her fruitful and multiplying birthday cancelled out Christmas, but she would have none of it.

Yesterday was a full day. After church, Pastor Jones marked another year given by gracious God with a houseful of love and a bellyful of delicious food. After this, we drove five minutes to B. Boyd E.’s new home on an Ithaca hilltop to find Amy, Tim, Dani, and the Sweet Shizzo Baby Within behind his door. Hurrah! We arrived home after ten, our bellies overfull but our heads and hearts just right. I’m not joking about the belly part. I arrived home with a bellyache and discovered this morning (stepping with suspicion on my sister’s scale) that I’ve gained a friendly family of pounds since I last set foot (feet?) on one. Mmmm. Birthday cake, candy, and ice cream for multiple breakfasts in a row surely had nothing to do with this extra poundage. I have had the happiest of bellies for several weeks now, though, until last night’s bellyache, that is. Thankfully, the ache had eased enough by this morning for me to join the girls in a breakfast of waffles soaked in maple syrup, whipped cream, and diced peaches. Oh—and leftover ice cream cake for lunch. (Would you believe I took a pregnancy test in hopes that I had an excuse for this gluttony? I discovered that it's pure gluttony...if a wrong thing can be pure.)

Which leads me to this:
I enjoyed my bellyache so much, I’d like to share it.
Feast on these rich and overly sweet photos. I urge any sensible readers who prefer nibbling to instead gorge on these dozens upon dozens of snatched moments.

An end will arrive soon, I hope.

p.s. Dani and Ben, I remembered. Your recipes will be posted soon. Tomorrow, if my brain is faithful.