It all started today with a sad phone call informing me of a loved one's heart attack. (I do not care to share more than that in this post.)
Not to totally demean that sad event, but then I got an upsetting email from Jeremy about a local establishment that we frequent. There is a farm where we pick our berries, which also started selling ice cream last year. And not just any ice cream, but the most wonderful ice cream I have ever had. I can not describe how amazing this stuff is, so I won't even try. But, basically, we have been waiting all winter for the stand to reopen. He went online to find out when that wonderful day would be (not knowing that I just drove by yesterday and made a note) and found their horrifying website. I'd always been curious about the large RV parked next to the house, but that's not so unusual around here.
Well, it turns out they use the gas guzzler to travel the country spreading their "God and Country" gospel. They even have a puppet show.
I should have known. First, there was the explosion of country craft excrescence that populated the newly expanded stand. Then at the end of last summer, they were not shy about saying that Sebastian shouldn't be wearing a dress (as if it's any business of theirs) and it made me really mad. But that ice cream...
Well, they can forget about seeing a penny of our income go to their creepy little ministries and close-minded nonsense. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.