Local berries
There may be something ailing me; I missed the chance to go to the pots and pans sale at the arena in the city. I did send a proxy, but the chance to get “yet another frying pan”, or a specialty fork. Must go to city, asap.
At home, the day has faded into darkness, and I must now decide how to best use that couple of hours before sleeping. Should I look for a movie? Read a recent magazine? Test the batteries in my flashlights? All worthwhile projects, depending on one’s point of view (POV). Or I could try and find if I have a sliver in my index finger; pain is not a feature.
Had to assist with shopping, by judging photos of meat cuts from the market. Go directly to the steaks, OK? And avoid the veggie section; I’m waiting for the locally grown produce to come into season. Actually, I did have a dish of strawberries from the garden, earlier today. Excellent quality, with the added point of “no added pesticide residue”. I’d know about things like that. The only foreign object in my berry box is crushed eggshells; apparently slugs have a hard time getting their balance on the sharp edges.
The center of the Island is “into country” this evening. For the whole weekend, actually. I can’t hear the sound from here, and I don’t own a cowboy hat. Relaxation. Why don’t we get a good classic rock show, as a counterpoint? There must be someone who’d pay to hear amps at 11.
