Yesterday morning I began the day with some a fresh egg on a bagel with bacon and cheese. The egg was from some neighbors. Why eggs before Sunday services? Pragmatically speaking eggs are full of protein, you need something that will stay with you for a good while; the last thing a preacher needs to be is hungry on a Sabbath morning. For good luck, Gardner Taylor always eats eggs on Sunday mornings and goes over his sermons. I figure anything I can do that can channel some of Dr. Taylor's magnitude - I'll take it.
Sunday services were hot, extremely hot. I had the picture of the Simpsons episode when Bart put a chocolate bunny in the offering and it started to melt when Rev. Lovejoy received it. The First Lady made a blackberry cobbler - wow.
After church we went to the pool to cool off, but had to leave: thunder, no funder according to #2, and lightning. I tried to tell the lifeguard that it wasn't thunder but the roar of the motorcycles (there really was benefit ride going on). For a moment the lifeguard believed it, so did several parents. So then we came home and got ready to go to our neighbors for dinner. These are the same neighbors who have the chickens.
Now these neighbors are supposedly vegetarians. I didn't believe them. I had suspicions. For dinner: grilled sausages. Here is a picture to prove it.
If it weren't for pork I could be a vegetarian. Speaking of the magical animal, on Saturday I made eggs, toast, pancakes and sausage. Editorial note, breakfast sausage in New England is hideous! I had to make do with frozen Jimmy Dean. Nevertheless, the First Lady and I were able to have an almost forgotten treat: sausage slathered in maple syrup, a great wedding of north and south.
Instead of spending my morning at the usual hangout, I went up to the ANTS library to drop off some books. While coming home I stopped by NEMBF. I have tried to express the enormity of the place, so today i took in my camera. I placed it on the floor and aimed it upwards, perhaps this will give you some context for just how wonderful this place is.
The supposed vegetarians are out of town and we are in charge of their chickens, dog and fish. The female partner of the neighbors is worried that I might roast one of the hens, several times she referred to the SEVEN hens we are leaving you in charge of. Before dinner we fed, gave 'em some water and then put them up for the night. The kids loved it.