HOLEY SCHMOLEY

Somebody must have slipped me a Mickey before bed last night, because my dreams were so strange that I had to stay in bed quite late today just to see how they ended.

I was in a musical.  Singing, dancing, and acting.  

WITH JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN.

Now, the fact that my hunka hunka burnin' love would appear in a dream might not be that odd, especially given my utter fascination with all things JDM. But singing?  Me?

(I'd like to think that I have a voice like Adele, but it's more like a schlumpy, tone-deaf, non-British Adele who can clear a room or a church pew whenever she decidesto belt out a tune.)

And then, just to really make it nuts...I was singing about...

Gosh, I think I'm even a little embarrased to tell you this because it is just so damn odd.

OK, here goes....

MINCEMEAT.

I don't even know what mincemeat is.  But, there I was with Jeffrey Dean Morgan on the stage singing about it.  And my solo was all about serving mincemeat in different styles...Polish, Italian, etc.

Holy crap on a cracker...it's finally happened.  I've lost what little sanity I had and now am going to wander about this big blue marble singing with Jeffrey Dean Morgan about Chinese mincemeat.

On a more normal note (Ha!  Note!):

I'm chugging along on Winter Quakers.  This is last night's progress that I made while watching Sense and Sensibility.  It was going to be Housewives, but something lead me elsewhere instead.

Well, that's the report for the day, my dears.  As soon as I get my wits about me I'm heading out fir provisions.  I've put that off long enough that I'm getting a little freaked out by the echo of emptiness in the fridge!  Time to fill 'er up!