I have, many times, said to my youngest son, "If you were ugly, I'd have spanked you more often, and you might be better behaved today."
He is the youngest, and you parents know how tired you are by then. And he is achingly cute (my oldest boy is terribly handsome, and my daughters are stinking gorgeous, and why all my adverbs are pejorative I will never know) and he does behave shockingly from time to time.
And I'm shallow like that. I err to all that visually appeals. Back to basil...
Keep it in a cool, dark place....like a pantry. Don't keep it on your windowsill. Do as I say, don't do as I do. I am erring to the visually appealing, here, and also obnoxiously showing off my rosemary infused olive oil, in the used-to-be lemonade bottle.
Speaking of cute, of achingly adorable, of over-the-top sweetie-pie-ness, it is time to slip in yet another braggadocious Grandson Photo:
Poppy and I are preparing Little Britches for his first football season. He'll be a Volunteer, through and through, for yeay verily, he hath a goodly heritage.
Yeay, verily. Verily, yeay.
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