Spent Saturday morning taking a guided nature hike in the bike trails. The leader said he also planned a fall hike; I hope I see the announcement.
Saturday night: oops, I forgot to plan something for the carry-in dinner. I have all the ingredients to make crock-pot cornbread, and it goes over well, but it would be a great deal of fuss to get it done by serving time. And it would involve carrying a rice-cooker while trying not to tip it enough to spill the cornbread batter.
So I set a half-gallon semi-disposable container on the counter next to a can of chunk pineapple, planning to dump the pineapple into the container and top it with a bag of frozen blueberries.
But this morning, I decided to use raspberries instead of blueberries because they wouldn't bleed all over the pineapple, and put them in the bottom and dump the pineapple on top, and crushed pineapple goes with raspberries better than chunks do, but crushed pineapple doesn't have a lot of juice on it and it piles up leaving dents, which I filled with half a bag of blueberries.
So I had both the tartness of the raspberries and the all-obscuring dark color of the blueberries. But over half was taken —perhaps because I didn't stir it much and the blueberries were on top, perhaps because it was the only dessert without added sugar— and I think I saw somebody taking a second helping.
After getting rid of my dishes so that I wouldn't eat any more, I went around the table taking a crumb of every dessert — and sliced a tip off one of the slices of pie.
There wasn't much of any dessert left, and not a lot of anything else, at least among the dishes that hadn't been packed up and taken home. But there was still enough that a late-comer could have had a good meal.
Our flowering-apple tree is spectacular, and one branch is half the view through the sewing-room window when I'm sitting at the keyboard.
I didn't notice that the redbuds were in bloom until they had little green leaves on them. I must remember to walk the road to Miller's field before the show is over. There's a pretty good show on the point seven, which Dave's new phone says is point eight. We are going to have to give these loops names. But there is no landmark that isn't on more than one loop.
Dave left his take-a-walk app running when he mowed the lawn, and got a map that looked as though a kitten had been playing with it.
Three loads today: two white and one black. I've divided the coloreds between the second white and the black. Only shirt in there is my cotton jersey. Perhaps I should frisk the closet before putting the second load in.
Must have been a long day. I began reading my funnies by reaching for the "What If" bookmark, thinking that it was Tuesday.
I pulled a lot of weeds out of the asparagus bed, and a few out of the herb bed. The oregano —or is that marjoram— is doing fine, and the chocolate mint is taking the place.
I got all the wash hung out and brought inside before nap time. I put the last load on the drying rack (where it still is). There wasn't much left after I'd taken out what was to be dried on hangers, so I used only part of one rack.
Breakfast and playing with computers over, the first order of business today is to re-thread the Necchi, take the needle out, verify that it's a knit needle, and sew the shoulder seams of my T-shirt in progress. I must sew the bust darts before sewing the shoulder seams, to pin the darts I need a clear space on the table, if I'm moving the garbage I might as well carry it out to the compost heap, hey there's the limp shell of the missing potato set — better put it into its appointed place and bury it in bagged topsoil just in case there's some life left, as long as I've got the cart out here, this is a good time to put duck mulch near my multipliers, but I need a knife to get the cable tie off the bag, so I go inside for my knife and my lipstick — lipstick? I haven't put sunscreen on today! While putting on the sunscreen I notice a rough spot on a fingernail and I've already torn my thumbnail today; better emery-board this one before I tear it too, somehow back to something I was doing before: egad is this knife ever dull!
I couldn't put an actual edge on the knife —what do you expect of a fifty-cent knife with a stainless blade— but I did get it sharp enough to grunt through the cable tie, so I mulched the multipliers, the mulch at a careful distance lest it disagree with them. I put an oval around the short four-set row; if everything I've mulched flourishes, I'll also put mulch between the multipliers in the row.
The sight of the topsoil reminded me that I'd planned to dig a flower pot and fill it with topsoil when I planted the cinnamon basil, so I dragged the cart over to the Joe Rickets strawberry bed and planted the cinnamon basil where the parsley was last year, and mulched a couple of strawberries in the north-west corner, planning to gradually cover the entire bed, if these plants like the mulch.
Yesterday I bought four ground-cherry plants in the fond hope that the deer wouldn't recognize them as tomatoes. Those need planting too; they are already pot bound. There is plenty of space in the Joe Rickets bed, but the deer come here to eat the strawberries http://www.debeeson.net/IPCamPhotos/DeerOnIPCam.jpg so there is no way they'd overlook a ground cherry. I put one in the commercial-strawberry bed, careful not to clear a space around it. The deer haven't paid much attention to that bed since we took the bird feeder down. Then I put one in the herb bed and the remaining two in the fern bed, all potted in bagged topsoil. I ringed the one closest to the lawn with duck mulch to keep it from being mistaken for a weed.
It hasn't rained since we put out the rain barrels, so I'd better change into shorts and fetch a couple of buckets of water from the creek. But on the way into the house, I noticed the bucket of rain water, so I used half of that and here I am back at the sewing project. But my stomach is telling me that it's time for lunch. And after that, I think I need a nap. It's almost one o'clock.
Briefly considered pinning the darts before going to bed, but I intend to mark the stitching lines with self-removing marker, which works only if one goes straight from the marking table to the sewing machine.
I once read a very pained essay written by a woman who bought a self-removing marker and spent a whole evening very carefully marking precise and artistic locations for the sequins or whatever that she meant to sew on the next day.
Al E. Cat threw up in the hallway during my nap. I scraped it onto an envelope neatly, leaving little sign on the carpet, but just slipped the envelope through a cracked-open door onto the patio because I wasn't dressed to go outside, forgot about it until just now, and don't want to go out into the dark. Well, I go out through that door only on laundry day; if I forget to take care of it tomorrow, it will dry up and blow away before it gets stepped in.
Canned soup for supper. After supper, I rode to Owen's for milk and salad, and redeemed coupons for three frozen dinners and a bag of frozen peas. Also picked up a package of two smoked pork steaks, then about faced and went back to Produce for a potato. One steak will be will be fried for supper tomorrow; I don't know what I'll do with the other.
Getting ready to go took a while. After going barefoot all of today and half of yesterday, not to mention all that gardening, not even the plastic pumice would take all the cottonwood gunk off my feet. I put moleskin on my corn sites even though I'd be wearing shoes for a very short time. Last time I did that, I forgot the moleskin was there, and had an interrobang moment the next time I scrubbed my feet.
Speaking of gardening, using rain water from the bucket had an unfortunate effect. Al had to lean over so far to reach the remaining water that he knocked the bucket over and got wet. The big carpet scrap we use for a walk-off mat got wet too, and was very difficult to get out from under the broom cupboard to drape over a waste bin to dry.
I clicked on a link to the Second-Mile Adventures website, and had to close the tab without reading anything because it started playing loud music without permission.
Annoying me that way was something of an accomplishment: I don't have any speakers.
A lot of the tulips in the strawberry bed dropped their petals in the night, so I went out and broke off all the seedpods that didn't have a full complement. Most of those remaining look rather tattered.
The flowering apple is pretty much past it too.
It rained enough during the night to fill the bucket, so Al is happy again. Dave says that he approached it rather cautiously the first time.
It appears to plan to threaten to rain all day, without actually precipitating. The water in the bucket looks dirty, so we could make use of a good rain. Don't need to water plants yet, but I'd like to have some water in the rain barrel on general principles.
The windsock isn't as twitchy as it was when I first looked out, and seldom comes close to standing out straight.
We took the Toyota in for a recall service yesterday morning, and had breakfast at the Red Apple. I wanted an omelet, but there is no way I could eat five eggs at one sitting, so I looked at the panel above: scrambled eggs. The "Legal Alien" looks good, and here's the waitress back, I'll have that.
Yes, there was only a reasonable patty of scrambled egg, but it was on half an inch of sausage and more than an inch of potatoes, covering more than half of a fairly-large plate. I put half of it —and one of Dave's biscuits— into a box, had a hearty lunch and a bedtime snack out of it, and still had half a slice of toast for breakfast this morning. Dave warmed up his biscuit. He said it warmed up well because it was "almost cake". I don't think I would have liked it.
I discovered that cold, soggy toast freshens up beautifully when one sets the toaster oven for 150F and "dark toast"; the element comes on just often enough to re-crisp the toast without browning it more.
I'm planning to have the other smoked-pork steak for supper tonight. The first one turned out steamed rather than fried, but good, so I think I'll steam this one on purpose. And make more gravy even though there's gravy left from yesterday. We didn't eat all of yesterday's steak and probably won't eat all of today's, so I can chop left-over pork into left-over gravy and serve creamed ham on toast tomorrow morning.
For lunch today, I'm trying a variation on the Great Dane's Oatcakes. I reduced the salt, as before, and put in rather too much honey — it's difficult to pour a tablespoon from the jar. When I had everything mixed up, I divided the half-recipe into four parts in the mixing bowl, and formed them into balls with the spoon. Then I plopped a ball onto a griddle set for 300F, covered it with a square of waxed paper that I'd liberally sprayed with no-sticky, and flattened it with the bacon press. It came out about the size and shape of a hamburger patty. Five minutes on a side, and it's pretty good. It would have been better if I hadn't used quite so much milk, I think. I should add the milk a few drops at a time and stop as soon as everything sticks together.
Wednesday's entry had some perhaps-puzzling references to plants I bought "yesterday". On Tuesday, Martha went to Country Garden Greenhouses and invited me to come along for the ride. Had I written this up sooner, I'd have more to say; now I can only say we both enjoyed it.
Seeing how lengthy my posts have been of late, perhaps that is just as well.
Putting the carpet scrap back under the broom cupboard was surprisingly easy. Dave used the leaf blower first, so it looks a lot cleaner in the garage. I shook the strip of carpet that we keep in front of the freezer, but it never did stop giving off clouds of dust and grit. At least I got the visible dirt off it.
Yesterday, I re-heated the remains of Thursday's potato by leaving it cut-side-down on the smoked pork while it was steaming. It didn't have any warmed-over flavor.
After supper yesterday, I went for a walk out the Southtown Loop and back by Heritage Trail. I went through Miller's field to connect with the Southtown Loop, turning around every few feet along the road to the field because the redbud show is better when you are coming out. The redbuds were past their prime, but still worth looking at. I think there are more redbuds in other places than there used to be — I wonder whether ours will ever bloom?
Dave didn't feel like ham gravy this morning, so I made Cocoa Wheats. I'm in the habit of using the serving spoons from the silverware set whenever I need to stir something. I'm usually stirring a small amount that would be lost in a cooking spoon, and a small, short-handled spoon gives me more leverage when I'm stirring bread dough, so that I can knead it without putting my hands in.
But when I want to stir something while it's boiling over high heat, I really *must* remember that there are long-handled spoons in the next drawer over. While gradually stirring in the cereal, I splashed the boiling water, flinched, and scattered Cocoa Wheat over the stove. The scalds didn't stick; the only red mark on that arm is a scratch from when I got into a multiflora or some other thorny plant during my walk.
I think it was yesterday that I noticed that one of the potato sets and all of the onion sets are up. The potato leaves are beautiful, shiny, and dark green. I hope the deer don't notice.
Just in case we like the devilled eggs:
Mustard, one tablespoon.
Horseradish, two heaping tablespoons.
Salt, one-half teaspoon.
Cider vinegar, a splash.
Olive oil, one tablespoon
Eggs, one dozen
Mayonnaise, quant. suff.
Garnish with smoked paprika.
I used one of my off-site back-ups today: I appended a long file to the wrong file, and when I tried to snip it off, I found that the file was too long to open. Well, duh! That's what back-ups are for! When you make a major mistake, don't try to fix it, just replace the defective file with a copy of a good one!
Meanwhile, I think I'll make fresh back-ups of this file.
I definitely need to use less horseradish next time, and add cream cheese.
Sometimes I'll quote an amusing line from a novel to Dave, he says "?", and I realize that to appreciate the line, you have to have read the entire novel. And sometimes I start to write a one-line observation for this journal, and realize that I have to tell you my entire life story if the remark is to make any sense.
Thick socks seldom come in black, and when I wear sandals in January, I don't like also wearing a neon sign that says !!HEY EVERYBODY, I'M WEARING SANDALS IN JANUARY!!. So I bought cheap black knee hose at Payless Shoes — actually I bought the first pair because the cheap hose were two-for and I didn't need two pairs of beige, and thought up a use for them later. (I buy cheap hose because expensive hose are sheer no matter what it says on the label, and more inclined to feel like nylon.) Black hose cover up bright-gray socks nicely.
Yesterday we drank the last of the milk at supper, so I suited up to ride to Kroger soon after the dishes were done. All the black socks that I usually wear on the bike were on the drying rack (yesterday was Monday, you know) and I don't like to wear white socks until after I change from tights to knickers. (It was *way* too cold to ride in knickers! But the weather bureau says it will get up to 80F today.) So I put on black knee hose, and they made my pegged sweat pants fit as closely as tights — I should try them over jeans sometime; it would save pinning the ankles, and if I pull them on carefully, it might also save tying a garter under my knee.
Now here's the one line: When I took my shoes off after the ride, my big toe was sticking out through a runner in the stocking. The beige hose I wear on Sunday are getting picked and dingy, but this is the first time I've worn a pair of these cheap hose out.
To think that when I first I wore hose, a stocking made it to Friday only by making Friday's definition of "still fit to wear" very, very loose.
I wore the hose as house slippers the rest of the day, and I'm doing it again today. Might as well get them good and dirty before I throw them out.
Time out to thread a needle with fine basting thread and make a teeny bar tack at the center backs of the top edges of the new black hose, and then do the same for my back-up pair of beige hose. Easier to put the same side to the front as last time with a purpose-made mark than to do it by guessing which side is stretched out at the heel.
And now it's about six weeks past time to pin a hem into the pillowcase I made from an old sheet, and make four more from the rest of the sheet.
On Monday I went to Owen's to pick up my omiprazole and found that it was too early to pick up the levothyroxine that I'd ordered that morning. On Tuesday, I went to Owen's and found that it was too late to pick up my levothyroxine — the pharmacist had gone home for the night. Today I went to Owen's in the morning and found that they had no record of any order for levothyroxine. Fortunately, I'd planned to go to Ace and look at the plants, so I did that while waiting for the order to be packed.
I also cancelled the useless and confusing AutoFill thingy. (She *said* that she cancelled it; I hope that it took better than my Easy-Fill order for levothyroxine.) Should have cancelled AutoFill on Monday, when I picked up a bottle of omiprazole with an an unopened bottle at home and two weeks left in the opened bottle.
On Mother's Day, Alice gave Dave a big flower pot, and he bought a beefsteak tomato to plant in it. He keeps the pot in his little green wagon and wheels it into the garage every night.
Which reminds me: I didn't inspect my ground cherries today. It's probably time to give the ones in the fern bed another coat of poison.
The ground is getting dry already. I should have cultivated the garden to keep the soil moisture from wicking to the surface; perhaps I'll remember to do it tomorrow.
I picked some asparagus today, and left enough that should be ready tomorrow that we should have a nice mess for supper tomorrow night. We've already had a sample: one spear each shortly before Mother's Day.
Speaking of Mother's Day, there was definitely too much horseradish in the devilled eggs, and they would have been much better with cream cheese. Which I shall bear in mind for Race Day.
Dave sent me a link to an Indianapolis Star article about bicycles that was actually somewhat informed and not totally insane: http://www.indystar.com/article/20130515/NEWS19/305150082/Erika-D-Smith-Bike-riders-behaving-badly-s-time-crack-down Moreover, most of the comments were from actual human beings — perhaps because the introduction said that entities who join in for the sole purpose of vituperating are not welcome, and gave an easy way to report violations. And whenever someone gave an uninformed opinion, the other commenters offered civil corrections.
I must remember: whatever I serve for supper tonight, we are having steamed asparagus with it.
Pinned a sleeve into my new T-shirt this morning. I hope to stitch it before nap time. (Well, it's nap time now, but I'm running a little behind my clock.) Or I might cultivate the garden.
Now I have the collar attached and the pockets will be ready to sew on after I've pressed them and machine-stitched the hems.
The on-line Times Union says I'll have new motivation to ride the Chinworth Bridge Loop starting Monday: they are making "lane changes" on Old 30 from Zimmer Road to Walnut Creek. First trip will be to see where Walnut Creek is. There's a streak on Google maps that looks appropriate, but I don't recall crossing a bridge on my way to Avila's Supermarket. Probably a no-special-precautions bridge that doesn't impress itself in my memory.
I have 2800.00 minutes on my cell phone. I wonder how often it's exact to the hundredth.
The historical tour was fun. I peeled off when it passed our house, then went back downtown for a barbecue sandwich. Found the vendor other participants in the tour had mentioned, but they'd sold out and taken the menu down, so I went to Sweet Dreams, which had pork barbecue among the specials of the day. I was braced for a squishy white bun, but forgot that Sweet Dreams sandwiches are served on "croissants" — squishy white buns incorporating lots of sugar. But the barbecue was spicy enough to cover it up — especially since I had brought the sandwich home and had plenty of pickles.
Now I feel like going out again, but I've pretty much seen everything the festival has to offer. Perhaps I'll ride to Roy Street and back — just saw a line of cars with bike racks passing, so the mountain-bike races must be over.
Didn't. Lay down for an hour instead. Woke up just before the timer went off.
My right hand and arm ached during the service. Unfortunately, they don't ache now, so I'm likely to forget and use the trackball.
I thought I'd lunch on festival food on my way home, but I didn't see anything I wanted to eat standing up while wearing a white dress, and I didn't have a good way to carry loaded flatbread home. I might try to talk Dave into going to the Curbside for supper, but I suspect that the festival will have wrapped up and gone home by then. Everybody has to go to work on Monday, and some of these guys came from other states.
So I picked the asparagus — with the assistance of two of the Wildmans' guests' dogs. A girl in a bathing suit finally persuaded them that it was more interesting elsewhere.
I thin-sliced the stem ends of the spears and fried and steamed them in butter with a minced mini sweet pepper and a minced slice of onion, added pepper, smoked salt, chopped colby cheese, and an egg, and scrambled. It was delicious!
Dave got a spoonful of the veggies, probably not quite done since they also steamed inside the egg.
Jonah posted an invitation to his graduation party on Facebook. I thought he was about twelve — I guess I should look at the children once in a while.
September Century Weekend, killed by the League Against Bicycling, is resurrecting! The Wabash Bicycle Club mailing list posted an announcement of the inaugural Ferdinand Folk Fest Fondo, featuring century-style rides on September 21 - 22 near Jasper-Pulaski.
Scratch the resurrection glee: when I searched the message for the name of the bicycle club organizing the event, it turned out to be Dubois County Visitors Center & Tourism Commission.
But I'd still like to go to the event, assuming that it's possible to retreat to a non-painful distance from the loudspeakers.
Upon locating the home page of the event, I find that it's reasonable to go home before the loudspeaker noise starts.
Dave's tomato plant is in bloom. Only two of my potatoes came up; I bought one sprouted seed potato at Big R on my way to Aldi, and have planted it already. Got the dirt from where I've been throwing garbage, but it was mostly sand.
Meant to go to Aldi this morning, but it was after eleven before I hit the road. I had two strawberry fruit-and-grain bars for lunch.
I took the truck because Dave wanted to gas up the car, and I forgot to get the bags out of the car. But that worked out fine; there were two boxes on the bagging counter and I took both of them. Turned out that all the canned goods fit into one, so I took the other along to Aunt Millie's and filled it with bread. A box is *much* better than a bag for carrying bread! Stuff that I thought might blow away all fit into the passenger seat.
Rejected ramen-noodle at Aldi because I didn't want a whole box all the same flavor, then found that Aunt Millie was selling them individually, and had "oriental" in addition to chicken and beef. So I was all set to serve ramen with asparagus and left-over pork again, but when I woke up and asked Dave, he said he was craving carby Mexican or Chinese, so we went to the Great Wall.
Not as good as last time: it was merely excellent. And it was a mistake to order scallops when Dave was having shrimp with glazed walnuts. I should have ordered a mammal or a bird.
Ramen recipe: put two cups of water in the glass saucepan. While the water is heating, cut some picked-too-late asparagus and some left-over pork loin into chopstick-friendly pieces. When the water boils, empty the flavor packet into it and turn off the gas. Scrape the asparagus into the still-boiling water, then break the noodle book at the hinge and press the resulting slabs down into the broth. (The corners have to bend a little.) Top with pork loin and put on the lid. Wait five minutes, divide into two soup bowls.
I used oriental-flavor ramen noodles.
about a third of a package of cream cheese
one teaspoon of salt
one tablespoon of dry mustard
one rounded tablespoon of horseradish
two teaspoons of cider vinegar
sour cream, quant. suff.
Cotton is coming down. I'll have to run around barefoot soon, to see whether we are done with the gunk-coated bud covers.
Yesterday was my first farmer's-market tour. I bought tomatoes at the fairgrounds market, and italian seasoning and a potted lemon grass at the downtown market, which I planted in the Joe Rickets bed even before bringing in all my groceries.
I'm not used to the split market yet; I didn't take any food bars even though I knew I was going to be out all morning. When I was time to come back, I was hungry, but not hungry enough to eat a whole submarine, so I bought a "chug" —fourteen ounces of milk posing as a pint— at CVS. Drank half at once, the rest in installments on my way to Owen's. Stopped by the hospital on the way and left off a thin hardback and a paperback.
Once at Owen's, I bought a hot dog from a cute little boy scout, and sat in one of the lawn chairs that are for sale.
Then I went in for milk and butter, and forgot the butter. And the butter was on my list and the milk wasn't!
When I checked out, I went to an aisle with only two people in it, failing to notice that the person then checking out was in the middle of some long, drawn-out difficulty. Then the woman in front of me had an item that didn't scan properly, and that took a while.
When I noticed that the bag boy was bagging my purchases when I wanted them loose in the cart, I didn't say a word.
But I didn't put my card in until all my groceries had been checked, then had to punch my PIN twice.
I think the delays had rippled out by then, but I didn't hang around to watch the woman behind me check out.
I found a catnip bush at the entrance to the boardwalk leading from the hospital grounds to the route to Owen's. I selected a branch that I didn't think it would miss and brought it home, but Al showed very little interest in it.
At sunset, we saw three swans that appeared to be planning to spend the night on our sand bar. At six-thirty this morning, I counted seven that were forming up to swim away.
I dried the laundry inside yesterday, and Dave caught rain water in a clean bucket for Al.
The weather looks to be much the same today, but the National Weather Service says that tomorrow will be a good day for a long ride. I don't think I'm quite up to a trip to Leesburg, particularly since I've been off the bike so long, but all the shorter rides I can think of are boring. Except the Walmart loop, and that one is exhausting.
I'm not terribly motivated for the Leesburg tour, since I wouldn't want to take frozen duck on a ten-mile bike ride. Of course I've never seen the Maple Leaf headquarters. And I haven't taken a lap around Leesburg lately; might be something else new to look at, and it would at least be interesting to learn that there isn't.
Perhaps I should have Dave drop me off in Leesburg. I'm sure the town would be much more interesting when I haven't just ridden ten miles.
Meanwhile, I've really, really got to get around to cutting that piece of black bull denim into two pairs of jeans.
But not today — the seven-day forecast says this will be the only fit day to ride this whole week.
Wearing moleskin every time I put on shoes works! The corns are so thoroughly healed that I couldn't see where to put my synthetic callus this morning. (But I *remember* vividly.)
Well, moleskin and never, ever wearing shoes without a good reason.
I counted seven swans this morning and wondered whether it was the same bunch I'd seen before, but after accounting for birds lined up with each other and birds hidden by tree trunks, it turned out to be a lot more than that.
I've long since thought that it was well past time for DNR to issue "kill all you can eat" permits to any hunter who can demonstrate that he can tell the difference between protected swans and feral domestic swans, but a recent news story suggests that the applicant should also demonstrate that he knows how to kill a big bird. (Somebody shot a swan with a sparrow gun several times, then beat it to death with an oar.)
I gave up on finding calcium tablets, and when I went through Dollar General on my way to Penguin Point yesterday, I bought a bottle of calcium capsules.
So this morning I finished stocking my pill sticks. The smaller pill stick has compartments just exactly big enough for my pills, and the capsules are a little bit bigger than the tablets. I arranged the tablets and capsules very, very carefully and managed to close the lids on them without breaking the fish-oil capsules, but I think I need a new pill stick.
Perhaps the Pillbox has a selection of sizes — I've been wanting another wee tiny pill stick for my wee tiny levothyroxine tablets for some time, and what I've seen in grocery-store displays gives me very little confidence that I can grab a stick bigger than this but no bigger than that just any old where.
I took my country shoes with me yesterday, but when it was time to put them on, instead I turned around and came back through town. I didn't feel like going on, not to mention that it was a warm day and I had a fried chicken thigh in my pannier.
The chicken thigh was probably why I didn't feel like exertion. I ordered a two-piece basket at Penguin point; the fries alone would have been a heavy meal for someone in the middle of a ride, but I also ate two wings. The wings surprised me; I thought wings weren't fried any more, because most people don't like them fried and adore them buffaloed.
I went to Avila's after dropping off books at the emergency room and the library. Still no sign that they are cleaning up. On the west side of the tobacco store there were some bits of roof-edge on the driveway that I didn't remember seeing before, but those could have fallen by themselves, or they could have been there all along.
The windows and doors are boarded up, but no effort has been made to cover the holes in the roof.
I came back by way of Marsh because we were out of butter and salad. I bought a bag of salad half the size of one that cost half as much.
Perhaps I told you the good-news/bad news joke: Good news: Smith Brothers is still making cough drops. Bad news: I can't remember where I bought them.
So I've been looking at every cough-drop display, and at Marsh yesterday I hit pay dirt: Smith Brothers!
Closer look: it's not cough drops, it's cherry-flavor caffeine drops. Thorough inspection: that's the only Smith Brothers product in the display. But it's possible that I did buy the cough drops there and that they will have them again.
I bought the caffeine drops on general principles, and Dave had one instead of coffee this morning. I put five into a snack bag and added them to my little bag of stuff.