With the bad weather, Rich has stopped getting up at 6. Or 7. Or even 8. Today at 9 AM, the Iranian lady in the neighborhood stopped by to ask for pomegranates and I said sure, since we'd passed out all the ones the kids could take. Well. THEN Rich woke up and he was furious, so he went out in the rain to make sure he got his share for his juice experiment. She got about half, however, and he finally calmed down.

He seeded them, then put them into the blender, then ran the juice through cheesecloth. Then cleaned the kitchen. There were splats at eye level, as well as the expected counter-and-floor splats.

The juice is, uh, interesting. It's better than letting the pomegranates rot. Tart, and with a certain leafy bushy flavor. I prefer the tongue surprise of popping the seeds with my teeth, but hey. The stuff is probably full of vitamin C and stuff.