I like Tennessee, just in general, but I respect that other people don’t. Except for today. Today I feel sorry for all y’all who are not here right now. Sure, lots of towns, including Nashville, have big fireworks displays. But I just came in from standing out in my front yard watching one neighbor four doors down trying to outdo another neighbor four doors down in the other direction. The explosions echo off the hills like you’re being surrounded by noise. And it’s close enough that you can hear the pfoof of each rocket going up and turn your head just in time to watch it explode.
This is the second year that I’ve been here and the second year I’ve caught this and I just think it’s amazing. I know it’s dangerous, but I’m so glad everyone does it. I wish I had a thousand rockets to send up into the sky myself.
So, the Professor made an experimental cake for this party that she’s going to, one that contained balsamic strawberry puree. Oh, I know, already, you’re like, “Damn, how did that turn out? Did it taste good?”
Mere seconds ago, she called me because she dropped the cake. In her gravel driveway. As you can imagine, she is devastated.
But she imparts two pieces of information to me immediately.
1. Obviously, she dropped the cake on her gravel driveway; it’s a complete loss.
2. And, even worse, it was delicious.
Yes, this woman, seeing her experimental cake explode all over the driveway, still, for the sake of Motherfucking Science, scooped up a part untouched by the driveway and tasted it so that the cake would not be a total loss.
I felt terrible for her, but I had to cheer when I heard that. Damn straight, Fate. You may destroy our cakes, but you cannot completely rob us of their deliciousness. It’s almost like a metaphor for life.
I hope y’all find the last bunch of pictures, as I try to get a photo of the new kitty, as funny as I do.