An oversized cookie
How often do we get close to greatness? Once, I almost touched the tour bus of a “name”, although I didn’t get to meet the owner. Still…
I mention that one star, because he passed on last evening. BB King. You may have heard of him, if you ever watched Sesame Street, or wondered about a guitar named Lucille. Although his musical efforts will be remembered, there’ll be nothing new from his well of talent, and we are less because of it.
When I woke this morning (not that different from the several times during the night), as the little yellow dog launched into orbit with a riffle of wild barking, I happened to make it to the kitchen. Coffee machine, etc. Anyhow, there was a mixing bowl full of dry ingredients. Something started under cover of darkness, and in part responsible for the little yellow dog getting vocal. I didn’t learn what the intention would be until early in the afternoon, when a rather large cookie was removed from the oven. Singular. Oversize. Thirty by forty centimeters. Next lesson: how to cut small cookie seeds out of the larger dough mass.
The moving company finally called back, this afternoon. I dislike “sight unseen” estimates, and we’ll have a real evaluation of our intended volume early next week. For the moment, the costing is about what I figured it might be, which is a good thing. I hate trying to arrange financing for the sake of financing, if you get my drift. The man on the phone (again, sight unseen) assured me that we’ll be able to contain all of our stuff in the back of one of his trucks.
