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Language Log

Saturday, Aug. 08, 2009 - 3:08 p.m.

I'm wholeheartedly in favor of canned collards these days.

The art show went fine-- we got there on time this morning because J never went to bed; sales were a bit better than last month. The woodworker next to me forgot his mirror again and asked if he could send people over to use mine-- I said ok (very nice of me, eh?) and later he rewarded me with a very nice wooden spatula.

Two dogs, though, decided to pee in the front of my booth. I think it was a case of me having been assigned to a spot that was already in use as a doggie bulletin board; they did the quick perfunctory squat that neither I nor their owners really noticed until it was too late. *sigh*

Also came up with a number of good ideas (and a couple of dubious quality), inspired perhaps by the bagpipical stylings of some guy a half block away (because if they put him in the usual farmer's mkt performance space he'd deafen everyone). I didn't get a chance to say, "Och, aye" to anyone, even though I sat there wanting to for like an hour.

Time to eat black eyed peas. Wish I had cornbread.

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