“Writing is easy: All you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead.” - Gene Fowler
Today's post comes to you at the request of my grandma. She would like me to inform you that not only is she an expert on weed, but she also feeds it to her grandchildren for lunch with the command "Alright, kids. Time to get high." Even her house itself is stoned.
Field stoned, that is. The weeds comprising our salad being pig weed and lamb's quarter, both of which grow in her garden without her having to do a thing to take care of them. I have no idea what either of those are, but I do know that they're good when she cooks them. Her exact words to me were "We're having weed for lunch. Oh, Olivia, there's something to go on your blog. Won't it be fun to freak out your friends?"
So yeah, us crazy liberals are having a fabulous time consuming weed on Canada Day, because we're ANTI-AMERICAN. Or something.
On a side note, on the drive up here I saw a sign somewhere in West Virginia that said something like "Read the Gospel. Know Jesus' love," and sitting on a hill directly behind the sign was a sex club. Great to see what good Christian gentlemen they are around there.
Cousin Count: 7 out of 12 grandchildren in town. 3 more arriving tonight, the final 2 on Sunday. People who will be staying in this house as of Sunday night: 11.