Peculiar

I finished "Miss Peregrine ...Peculiar Children." It was good. It was a trifle darker than I thought it would be. It ended OK, not sad or depressing. It wasn't my favorite book ever, but it was worth reading. I liked the "Graveyard Tales" or whatever it was called better.

I'm a little gloomed today--many reasons. It seems that the rest of you manage to blog without revealing your inner-most feelings. I, on the other hand, feel the need to spill my soul. It's a little distressing. I'll try to hold back.

I just love Pinterest. It makes me happy. It's cathartic and therapeutic. I still don't know how to pin something from my computer onto one of my boards. I thought I did it once. Now I've forgotten how. Oh, well!

For those who asked, the pulled pork was delightfully easy. Even I did it, so anyone else could, too. The only trouble I had was it made soooo much that I froze some, fed guests, ate it two nights in a row and still have some left. Maybe buy a smaller roast than I did if you aren't planning on feeding an army. I'm kind of sick of pork at this point. But it was delicious and simple.

I cleaned my sliding glass door with vinegar, a dot of Dawn, and a squirt of Jet Dry. It worked very well. (Though Lola went crazy and mucked it up soon after I finished.) The sun is shining across it right now and it's not all streaky. Yeah!!