Write four lines of prose about: the pest.
We've got a full truck this weekend, as we'll be bringing 36 pints and 7 quarts (nearly 2 pints in each) of blackberries, 4 crates of peaches, 14 crates of Sunrise apples, and 23 (way more than we need) crates of nectarines.
Fingers crossed that people come out to enjoy the nice weather and the market, and that they're hungry for nectarines.
It'll be the full crew once again, as Kat and Becky will be driving up with the kids and Adam and I will be taking the truck up. Should be busy, one way (customers) or another (kids).
I can hear it moving in the dark. The flap of its wings, the bumps against the walls as it moves around the room like a drunken superman. I know it is in here with me but, because it flees to the shadows whenever I turn on the light, I cannot find it.
And I really, really need to sleep...