Aren't they beautiful? My brave little soldiers, awaiting their fate as a jar of Limoncello. Lemon peels, 100 proof vodka, and time equal Italian sunshine in a bottle. Has to be 100 proof, apparently, so my Sweet Baboo is off to the local liquor store for a bottle of moonshine to indulge his sweetie. I can't wait! but I guess I'm going to have to, since you let it steep for 40 days, then add MORE vodka and some sugar and let it sit for another 40 days. Then, the websites say, you can drink it as a liqueur, pour it on ice cream, fresh fruit, pork chops... Ok, I made that last one up, but I bet it'd be good.
Pepper is thrilled, you can tell. I know it seems like all she does is sleep, but it's either pictures of her sleeping, or close-ups of her nose, as she investigates the camera.
And I thought I would share this sign with you. This was posted on a pole in Felton California, and as I drove past it, oh Lord, the questions that flooded my mind.
Like how do you find a pony? Did it wander up onto your porch? Was it in the wheel well of your car? If your neighbors have a pony, wouldn't you know about it? Wouldn't you just call them and say "Yo, your pony is on my porch!" How far can a pony wander? And what about the people who LOST the pony? Did they drive past this sign and think "Thank God! Someone found my pony and thought to put up a sign!" And what would that phone call be like? "Hi, I think you have my pony." "Can you describe it?" "Uh, it's a pony. That's not yours. Brown." "No, this isn't your pony." Then they'd have a big show-down, and they'd do the thing where each of them would call the pony to see who he came to. Ponymania. I guess the moral is... do you know where your pony is?