This isn’t officially my third anniversary of blogging, but close enough. I’ve never been a stickler for complete and utter accuracy here anyhoo!
This is how you know you are old.
It’s a gray rainy Saturday, there are no kids in the house, and the two of you spend your day standing eggs on their ends.
Kirk and his lady proved once again, they have the skills necessary for being successful to live a full life while in Vermont on a gray rainy Saturday – which also happens is the vernal equinox, the first day of Spring.
They spent time standing eggs on end.
And then took pictures.
Now there are those who will tell you that you can balance eggs on their bottoms any old time of the year but take it from a couple of experts. You gotta hard boil ‘em in the upright position first if you expect to do so. Go ahead, try it yourself if you don’t believe me.
I don’t believe it, but I am not motivated enough to prove Kirk wrong. It’s a gray rainy Sunday and I’m busy doing other things.
Like smarting off on Kirk’s blog comment section:
I once owned an oversized hen
layed eggs you could always stand on end.
She was quite a clever cluck,
bigger than any Woodchuck
Had her for Sunday dinner. Amen.
Which reminded me of this old favorite.
I’m not the fig plucker,
Nor the fig plucker’s son,
but I’ll pluck your figs
till the fig plucker comes.
Which reminded me of Bulbous’s friend Ron who holds the trademark for “April Madness” and “Final Three.”
And that is the story of my blog.
Just a series of eggstanding eggsamples of eggstenstive eggcellent eggsaggerations and eggstravagances.