meep!

The kettle died! For two days I've been forced to make tea by boiling water in a pot on the stove. There should be a law against interfering with the proper flow of Earl Grey. And, of course, it would have to happen on the weekend when I'm all sinusy and can't face the thought of leaving the house to hunt and kill a replacement water-boilage entity. Woe is me.

On the other hand, a random thought for the day. Is it just me, or do granadilla flowers really look like small, vegetative, extremely cthulhoid alien life forms? Or have I just been watching way too much Farscape?



I'll swear the damned thing is sticking out its tongues at me. Roguishly.

p.s. my Evil Landlord just arrived with a new kettle. He is my hero. Also, he is a wise man who knows how dangerous it is to get between me and the tea supplies.