Because, what is it with you people and possums? Lately there's been a swarm of possum-seekers to this blog, so either "possum" is a porn euphemism (Is it? There was one search for "hairless possum" which makes me especially suspicious), or 2011 is going to be the Year of the Possum. I'm going with the last one. I think it's my destiny.
You long-standing blog friends have looked ahead with me to the day I would finally make my Possum Tarts dream a reality, and I think it's time to roll up the sleeves and get to work. I'm going to the store now to stock up on filo dough and frosting ingredients (what goes with possum? A paprika glaze? White chocolate? Figs?) and then I'll just need to catch a possum for the filling. There's a little one my family has named Andy that hides under the car but I think there's a moral issue with cooking something or someone you've named. Not that that stopped my parents from serving us "chicken" when we were kids, right after our rabbits disappeared. Not bitter, Mom!
Anyway, as soon as I'm ready to do some market testing, (got to work out the gristle problem I'm anticipating) I'll be calling you all over. Stay hungry.
Also, I think the whole domain name thing has finally settled in. Just to clarify, I don't have a new blog, just the same old tired one, but the address is different. Truestarr was right, the address is just ohvic.com, no "www". If you put the "w"'s in, the internet sends you to Siberia. It's cold there right now, I'm pretty sure. So, at some point it would be good to switch your link over to the new address. When you get a chance. I need you here so that my therapist thinks I have friends.
In other news, my gazing ball neighbor has been boring me lately with his lack of attention to his yard. This is because he has been busy single-handedly building a second-story balcony on the back of his house. He's using long sticks, a lady-like hammer, a handsaw and my husband's infamous ladder. He's going to be back there for years unless he falls off the ladder.
On the bright side, there IS one new addition to the flamingo/madonna/majestic lion-festooned yard! It's a three-foot plaster swan next to the front door. He's hung a life-preserver around its long neck. I hate it when swans drown so it's good he's emphasizing water safety.
I'd post a picture for you, but he hasn't had a chance to whitewash it yet, and I know he'd want me to wait until it matches. It's so hard to wait.
I have to go grade research papers now, since school is starting back up tomorrow and I waited to the last minute, as usual. My favorite paper so far is the one about the poem "Batter My Heart, Three-Person'd God", where the girl explains that the poem is about how the poet wants to be covered by God in sweet, sweet batter, like a cake.
Stupid high school students. It's obviously more of a tempura-batter. God's a deep-fryer.
Deep-fried Possum Tart. Like a rodent Monte-Cristo...
I think I need to go back to the store.