Adventures in Packing a Lunch

Once upon a season of life when I was employed and Hunneypunkin was un, Hunneypunkin would assign the packing of my lunch for work to one of the children, the night before.  It was a nifty little way of using up dinner leftovers and including The People in my work life at the same time.
I enjoyed opening my lunch when I got to work to see what The People had sent for me.  Sometimes there would be a napkin in my lunch bag, with a note written on it with permanent marker by Angel Doll.  If there were no leftovers from last night's dinner, there would be a sandwich, maybe peanut butter with honey or our own homemade jam.  But usually there would be something I could put in the microwave (God bless my aunt for buying me one because the office didn't have one).  I might have a slice of pizza wrapped in foil, or a bowl of spaghetti.
I learned to peek in my lunch before I left home though, when I opened my lunch one day and there was only a tiny bowl of plain white rice.  I poked around the office to see if there was anything, anything at all, I could add to the rice.  Coffee creamer...sugar...hmm.  Nope, three bites of plain white rice was what I had for lunch.  Bless their little hearts, Daddy had said, "Pack the dinner leftovers for Mama's lunch for tomorrow," and that's all that was left.
Now, Hunneypunkin is employed and I am un, and Hunneypunkin assigns the packing of his own lunches to The People every night.  They generally do a great job, and they know his routine.  Make three sandwiches and stick them in the fridge, fill three wide-mouth water bottles with ice and stick them in the freezer.  Then in the morning, Hunneypunkin fills his bottles of ice with tea and puts them in his lunch bag with his sandwiches from the fridge.
We did have to remind The People once that after they made the sandwiches, they should put them into sandwich bags before refrigerating them.  Also that the sandwiches should indeed be refrigerated after being put into sandwich bags.  We learned that the sandwiches should be made early in the evening, so The People aren't so sleepy they forget to put the lunchmeat in the sandwiches.  Someone had to be reminded once that the ice in the water bottles wouldn't stay frozen unless the water bottles were put in the freezer.  Only once did Hunneypunkin simply forget to take his sandwiches out of the fridge before taking his lunch bag out the door.  Who knew we could find so much humor in the simple act of packing lunch?
This blog post contains no reference whatsoever to Jeremy Renner.

Warring With Hunneypunkin (Or, Magicking Weeds Into Bacon)

Hunneypunkin wants to spray weeds.  The problem is, he doesn't.  (Did I already tell this story?  I don't remember.)  Now I understand that all spring long, when the weeds are sweet and adorable just like all babies, it's either windy or raining or both and you can't spray the weeds in the wain and rinnd.  By the time the spring windses and rainses are gone, the weeds have all turned into big people.  Then, since there are no more rainsies and windsies, Hunneypunkin sprays weeds.  Guess what we have then?  An acre of big, ugly deadness.  Yuck!
I don't like weed spray because it stinks and I'm sure it's poisonous for plants and people and animals and water and ozone and other neat stuff.  I also don't like weeds because they mess with my favoriter plants.  So my solution is for Hunneypunkin to pull, shovel, pick, or hoe the weeds.  The problem is, he doesn't.  Plan B would be for Jeremy Renner to do it, but he lives too far away.  Besides, then there would be a big pile of dead weeds and they'd have to be burned or hauled off to the landfill or sneaked into the neighbor's yard, and that's just too much work.  Plus then if the neighbors return the favor, you're back at square one.
Hunneypunkin and I have had a habit of spiritedly debating the Spray-Versus-Pull Weed War at least three times every spring and twice during summer.  We've made it a tradition, kind of like Christmas only without the snow, candies, gifts, carols, stockings, good cheer, or eggnog.
This year, however, we came up with a different option: pigs.  We tossed a few oinkers in a pen out back.  I worked up the ambition to pull weeds myownself, and don't you know those hogs are pretty happy about eating their green leafies.  It's a pretty decent solution.  Hunneypunkin doesn't have to spray, dig, pull, pick, OR burn, I can feel all green and environmental, my yard looks pretty nice, I get a little exercise, and when the winter comes and the weeds are no more, we'll have bacon.  You KNOW how I feel about bacon.