Waffle Sunday dawns overcast, but there is only one chance in five of moisture. And this evening Sukkot arrives, though this year I will not be building a sukkah. My little porch will suffice and I shall sit out in the Texas heat from sundown until bedtime, then retire to my temperature controlled haven for a nights rest at a perfect 66°.
The drama continues yet another supporter of the lefts abused darling says she knows nothing of any assault by Judge Kavanaugh, and their Anita Hill gambit crumbles taking the “you gotta believe the girl” meme with it. It dismays me that so many are willing to play the game. It probably shouldn’t, though. There is such an evil spirit in the land, and as I read the holy writs, it will prevail eventually.
On a less morose note, today is pecan waffle day. Maybe even a patty of pork-free sausage if there is any left. I have grown to enjoy the Sunday brunch preparations, looking at them as a time of knitting rather than a family burden.
But first, I need to finish the second cup.