There are a lot of ninjas in my life to varying degrees of severity — by which I mean martial-artists and survivalists; not marketing-ninjas, accounting-ninjas or social-media-ninjas.
It’s not that strange to get a phone call from a buddy, chat about old ‘family photos,’ and find out someone still has that weapon in the trunk.
What IS strange, are the cuddly ninjas that keep cropping up in my day-to-day.
This little guy you may recognize from my banner. He comes with me whenever I travel.
I got a bit of a giggle out of this martial arts and crafts t-shirt.
The next step of cuddly are these cookie cutters my dad sent me for Winter Solstice last year.
Then, this showed up in the mail from my aunt today.
I must figure out a way to take the ginger out of gingerbread men. I think that’s why I don’t like them. Somewhere on some lonely mountain, or deep in the pulsing heart of the greatest citadel — a kitchen-ninja can teach me how to manipulate spices instead of knives…
…to transmute ginger into cardamom…
With my mind.