Holy Mackerel

I can no longer say with certainty that summer is my favourite season. As I get older, I am starting to notice the beauty in all, regardless of how cold or rainy it is. Because even raindrops are amazingly beautiful. One of the last berries the birds have apparently missed in their usually fruitful ventures through our front bushes. The Spirea is waning, and even that has its very own sort of beauty about it. This smoke tree is almost Christmas-like in its appearance after a recent rainfall. Have a great weekend, everyone!

Did you know that when a man rides a bicycle, his testicular members hang off on either side of the bike seat? I'm supposing this won't be news to any of my male readers, unless they've never been on a bike. It certainly was news to me. Mr. Handsome and I had this discussion the other morning, over coffee, as he was getting ready to bike to work, while I got ready to open up another box of bonbons to down during yet another day of unemployment. Yes, Mr. Handsome bikes to work, most every day, in fact. He only stops when the mornings are so cold that his testicles freeze to the side of his bicycle seat. Hence, the topic of discussion. So, after we went over the day's schedule (Mr. Handsome: work, Me: eat bonbons), I wondered where in fact do a man's plums go when he alights upon his bike seat. You see how I'm trying to keep my mind engaged and operating while I continue to look for work? I'm a deep and extremely profound person, I am. And Mr. Handsome told m...