Smoothies & a Poem

Every morning this week has been a Smoothie morning for me and Husband. Well, this morning it was a Smoothie for me and a rush-out-the-door-in-a-big-hurry for Husband. His smoothie's in the freezer; I will have it for elevenses. Or maybe tenses.
It's fun to wake up with Husband and make him a smoothie. He's been taking a thermos of coffee to work, so he makes coffee and when that's been done I get up and make the smoothie while he dresses. Then we drink our smoothies together.
'Sfun.
Today's smoothie was exceptional because I got these insanely ripe strawberries at the farmer's market yesterday. When I got them home I understood the air of desperation that pervaded the site--everyone had strawberries to sell and everyone had to sell them yesterday if they hoped to sell them at all. I had to carve them up to put them in the smoothie this morning--they were verrrrry soft--but so red they were nearly bloody, and sweet and delicious.
I planned to skewer them along with pineapple chunks for the party we're having tomorrow. Husband's family is coming down for a graduation--his uncle is receiving his PhD!--and I planned the menu very carefully. I wanted the skewers out before lunch so people would have something healthy to snack on (besides the chips and veggie dip), and these skewers are an example of something that is greater than the sum of its parts--even if you include the actual skewers in the equation. They are elegant without being pretentious, they are portable, and they are awesome-tasting! But you need to have whole strawberries, or they at least need to look like someone didn't peel them with a hacksaw. So I guess it will be a bowl of strawberries and pineapple. The best laid plans, as they say.
Incidentally, what they say is "The best laid plans of mice and men/ often go awry." I looked up the original Robert Burns poem and will include the wacky-sounding last two stanzas, because I think they're nice. He's writing to a mouse whose nest he overturned with his plow one winter's morning. He's sorry for the mouse, but not too sorry.

But Mousie, thou are no thy-lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' Mice an' Men,
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

Still, thou art blest, compar'd wi' me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e'e,
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!

(this is from http://www.electricscotland.com/burns/mouse.html)

Resolution Update.

It's not that I'm slipping. Today was just kind of a fluke. We had a very busy weekend, with lots of manual labor on Saturday, fixing up some buildings on my family's land out in the hills. And we had a last-minute, very welcome visit from my best friend and her two radiantly beautiful children yesterday.
AND we're out of coffee, so I had no motivation to get up with Husband this morning. Plus I was very tired from the weekend. But so was Husband, and he got up and went off to work lickety split. I, on the other hand, did not. It's a testament to my exhaustion that I had no seven o'clock dreams. I did have some eight o'clock dreams, but I actually woke up before those could get out of control and turn into nine o'clock dreams.
Anyway, not the best way to start a new week, but it is what it is.
On the other hand, I have not spent much time on the computer this weekend. We were too busy, for one thing. Yesterday I restricted myself to the reading the NY Times website, which is chock full on Sundays. And my Facebook farm has been managed--I won't have to go there ever again if I so decide. Pathetic, I know, but I think it's important to be honest.
My parents are bringing down some furniture they're donating to our cause (our cause being "we have a rickety dining room table and the chairs keep breaking"), but besides that I have nothing to do but sew, sew, sew. Finished an apron for my mom last week (and forgot to take pictures), and it turned out really nicely. On the front of it I sort of appliqued one of those off-kilter log cabin squares, and it looked so cool I can't wait to make some more. Without coffee, however, I'm having a hard time deciding what those squares will become part of.
P.S. I put the picture of the purple flowers here so it would stop being such a text-heavy page. They have nothing to do with me sleeping in like a big fat sloth; they have nothing to do with me intending to make log cabin quilt squares today; they have nothing to do with me being out of coffee. But they're pretty and they're growing wild in the wooded hill across the street from our little house.