Blogger keeps telling me that my browser's cookie functionality is disabled. Au contraire, mon frere, I tell it. Then Blogger tells me again how my cookie functionality is disabled. Usually, I win the disagreement, but we have to go a few rounds. I would like to meet the guy who coded this aspect of the Blogger machine, because if he really wants some cookies I have a bakers dozen to shove up the orifice of his choice. And speaking of choice? I have some choice words to say to that guy, too. For chrissake. We keep having this argument, me and Blogger. It's getting really old.
It's too nice to sit inside and knit. I went to the farmer's market instead. Now I have all this gorgeous food. Aren't those apricots perfect and luscious? Don't you wish you had some? And look at that stinky round of goat cheese goodness. Worth giving up a few hours of yarn time, if you ask me.