It's the afternoon before a wonderfully long weekend and I'm trying to assemble something, anything for my two 90 minute sessions this afternoon. At least half the kids have already gone home for the holiday (only 11/24 showed up this morning in one group, even fewer in the other) so I can't do anything important. Our new books (already 3 weeks
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I will SELL MY SOUL for a good, juicy, yellow, sweet, acidy, fragrant, messy chunk of pineapple. And have willingly traded fragments of my dark twisted evil little spirit for the bromeliad of gustatory paradise ever since my family live in Hawaii in the 1980s.
By the way, if you get ones grown in lava soil, they're less acid. And just as loverly.
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