I like that the word "urge" is hidden in "splurge." As I was savoring pancakes while Chris was away playing Easter music, I was happy to have real maple syrup. Even in college (poor, so very, very poor) I had to had real maple syrup. After tasting the real thing, imitation syrup is yucky beyond all description and just ruins whatever it touches...much like raisins.
Luckily, or unluckily, Chris hates pancakes/waffles. Abhorrs them. Is disgusted by them. Since it’s just me eating them, my syrup has officially become MY syrup and a bottle lasts forever. Mmmm. Pancakes.
We are awaying for a day to the mountains to visit some hot springs. I’m happy to be a short drive away in most directions from one hot spring or another. Since I live in a Hobbit Hole, it’s too small for a tub (sigh) and I very much look forward to soaking/floating in warm water this evening. And Dylan is eating my butter...he’s going to think his name is "Damnit Dylan Don’t!" because that’s all I ever say to him.
An Erinku:
C battery
unabashedly
waiting
for use
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