Snacklog

Good Monday, fellow snackers!

While thinking upon my new blog, I realized that the forum through which these snacks are now being transmitted is quite different from the mode former. The very first snacks I shared with others were simply snackful emails sent to friends.

How important, then, to share those snacky beginnings with the burgeoning snack populace! And how important for us old snackers to remember these humble beginnings.

Therefore, I will begin posting a few Snack Backlogs...or, Snacklogs.

Here is one of the first, from October 9, 2007.

"Mr. Skimpole having 'nothing to live upon but love, fell in love, and married, and surrounded himself with rosy cheeks.' His good friend Jarndyce and some other of his good friends then helped him, in quicker or slower succession, to several openings in life; but to no purpose, for he must confess to two of the oldest infirmities in the world: one was, that he had no idea of time; the other, that he had no idea of money. In consequence of whch he never kept an appointment, never could transact any business, and never knew the value of anything! Well! So he had got on in life, and here he was! He was very fond of reading the papers, very fond of making fancy
sketches with a pencil, very fond of nature, very fond of art. All he asked of society was to let him live. That wasn't much. His wants were few. Give him the papers, conversation, music, mutton, coffee, landscape, fruit in the season, a few sheets of Bristol-board, and a little claret, and he asked no more. He was a mere child in the world, but he didn't cry for the moon. He said to the world, 'Go your several ways in peace! Wear red coats, blue coats, lawn sleeves, put pens behind your ears, wear aprons, go after glory, holiness, commerce, trade, and object you prefer; only-- let Harold Skimpole live!"
-Bleak House, by Charles Dickens.