Yesterday my sister decided to make some homemade strawberry-rhubarb jam. “This is just great”, I think because any loving sister would make up a little extra and mail down to her brother. After all there’s nothing like getting something that reminds you so much of home. You know, those sensory markers when you smell or taste something that brings back great memories of your childhood. Well so far all I’ve gotten is a bunch of texts with pictures of how great it is and excuses of why she can’t send me anything. Homeland security, really? You lost my address, really?
So I fired back some pictures of my homemade waffles. The rivalry goes on.