Can't hardly imagine how long it's been

I haven't found myself with much to talk about, even with myself. I try to stay true to my self-enforced laws, rules and mandates and only update when something truly phenomenal presents itself. Hence, some pictures.

This first one takes place at Four Town Farm in Seekonk. They had a "U Pick Your Flowers" deal. I learned that whenever you, meaning you, are allowed to pick your own flowers (or fruit, or nose or whatever) it is customary to use the letter U, capitalized as such, to indicate 'you,' and not actually use the word you, You, or YOU. Only one person has told me this, but I believe it since I can't for the life of me recall ever seeing a sign that didn't indicate that U, meaning me, could indeed pick my own flowers.

Here's one with a butterfly. And, really, I have nothing insightful to say about him.

Finally, the best of the bunch, as of late. So we were at Home Goods looking for baskets or spatulas or something. As always, Home Goods (or indeed Marhsalls, or Filene's Basement) always produces something that stops me in my tracks. It might be the way some suburbanite is dressed (they love to shop in the most audacious get ups, with their kids in tow and not a nice thing to say to you the whole time), or the way one of the employees is talking about either their plans for the night, or the frightening let down of their last night out. Now, you can learn a lot from some of these people, often in the early 20's, espousing wisdom to their late-teen subordinates. Sometimes, rarely, they are cute. So, anyway, not cruising the place like a degenerate for a change, I saw this amazingly well (well, not well, but well-ish) crafted miniature baby (yes, two sizes smaller than you'd believe) toy piano for the aspiring Liberace you hide from the neighbors at home.

The faux-cabaret lettering spells out "A Star is Born," which is the same name of a not-quite-masterpiece of 50's film starring Judy Garland. Something you'd obviously be aware of if you were thinking of picking one of these delightful instruments up for yourself, your aspiring child, or your seriously spoiled Chihuahua. Please note, ivory lovers everywhere, that this instrument is not, in fact a piano, but a clverly disguised xylophone. A disctintion your discriminating child (or ferret) will evidently loathe you for mistaking. Idiot.