Not much to blog about today. Spent 5 hours in the field this morning in 98% humidity. Ed was not happy.
Oh, and by the way, boxcutters are sharp, as evidenced by the fact that I cut the shit out of my thumb this morning with one. I contemplated telling you all that I sliced myself with a jewel-encrusted letter-opener as I opened a box of hurricane-appropriate chiffon gowns sent to me “the” Mrs. Astor (That dirty birdie!) packed in ostrich egg cartons. But, there is a limit to how much ridiculous OTT (over the top) gay shit you all will put up with.
So I thought better of it.
On an unrelated note: Happy Bastille Day to all the cheese-eating surrender monkeys. I sho' do love some frenchies! (The title of this post is a quote of Poulenc's. "My 'article of faith' is instinct." How fitting.)