The Grandmas Were Best Friends

What a gorgeous day. The storm that was supposed to bring snow flurries down to sea level in Saint Plotniko never materialized, and when it passed through it left the clearest most picturesque sky and a city that looks like it just got dry cleaned.



The Great Acreage is looking quite fine this Spring. But it's still cold, too cold to plant tomatoes or cukes. This morning on the plotkicycle Plottie's hands were painfully frosty and he had to brake more than he usually does going down hills because the wind in his face reminded him of the East.

Until he got to the bagel shop. The Korean guys who run the bagel shop make delicious bagels, but West Coast bagels do not remind Plotnik of East Coast bagels.

The guys at the Hmong farmer's market stand, where Plotnik always buys a few things on Saturday morning after walking across the street from the bagel shop, were not there today. These guys live in Fresno and come up here every weekend but today they had a funeral for two grandmothers. It turns out that in the old country their grandfathers had at least two wives each, and when one of the grandfathers died, not all that long ago, both his wives died soon after. So today they are burying them both in Hmong style, in Fresno, CA, USA.

Everyone at the stand says the grandmas got along great and were best friends. They even died together. What a world.