Non-Harry-Potter Content! Step right up!
For dinner this evening I had a dead ripe mango. I'd say it was approximately twelve hours from rotten, at least in this weather. It was room temperature, about eighty degrees F, and I could smell it from three feet away. I cut the flesh off the seed and did not have to peel the pieces with a knife because the mango was so ripe that I could strip the skin from the fruit with my teeth, in the manner of someone eating leaves from a steamed artichoke. It was so ripe that the flesh was slick, slick like... aw,. hell, I'm not sayin'. That goes right into TMI-land for most of you people. Anyway, back to the fruit. It was musky, tangy, and yielding. The juice ran down my chin and down my hand because mangoes are sloppy when they're ripe and oh, this one was ripe. Because I'm the sort of person who thinks ahead, I had a towel from the kitchen (a real one -- I'm not a major fan of paper towels) to mop up the excess juices that ran down beyond the reach of my tongue.
Now I need a shower. I'm sticky.
Also, for Joe: The Kinks CD is lovely. Lovely, indeed. I listened to it this afternoon while I made with the housekeeping. (While most people do some housekeeping at least once a week, I save up all my housekeeping and do it in frenetic fits of frenzy about once every three years. This includes things like, say, vacuuming and washing the windows. As a result of housekeeping skills that could be called neglectful if you saw them often enough to make a judgment to that effect, I probably consume about six pounds of cat hair per annum.)
Also, progress on the mitten -- I'm an inch short of where I was this morning, but it's right this time and I am happy with it. I don't have the thumb done yet, but I've got three complete rows of 4x4 checkerboard. I might get the thumb done tonight before bed.
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