I did not go sailing
Among the catch phrases retained from my youth was the “set sail for a three hour tour”. Of course the sailing
time was longer than that; delays are inevitable, when you are at the mercy of the ocean. This afternoon, I declined an invitation to leave the safety of shore. Too old for risks, I guess. And there was no promise of fresh fish, despite the use of the word “jigs”. Are people still unaware of the collapse of the cod stocks?
Instead, I stayed behind with the dog. He slept all afternoon, so I was left to my own devices. The iPad,, mainly.
Working (eating) my way through a small pile of pita bread. With hummus, quite to my liking.
We have (or so I have been told) a private hive. Wasps. In the BBQ, which means that I will not be burning any sacrificial steaks between now ahd the onset of winter. I know, there are sprays that will “knock them down”. And then what? Nothing like an anagry flying stinger to spoil the day. Apparently, once it gets cold enough, I can go for the heavy artillery. No, not the flamethrower. There ‘s still a tank of propane stored beside (the still unseen) hive, and I deal poorly with explosions. I’ll work through my logistics, and then decide on a POA (plan of action) avoiding PITA (pain in the ass). Unlike bees, wasps can return for a second wave of attacks. I can wait, now that we have an alternative (the air fryer). It also burns steaks.
Yes, I would love to have a steak. Thanks for inquiring. No sauce, and keep the spices down.
