What a Day

The fridge was empty, as is the plan, when we got back home yesterday, so this morning I walked down to the fruit stand to get valencias and blood oranges for juice, milk and bananas for cereal, half and half for coffee, plus a few ripe avocados and butter lettuce to go with the arugula and kale we'll pull from the garden tonight. The sky is brilliant blue, it's a perfect, clear Shmalifornia day for walking or biking down to the farmer's market in a little while to fill up the rest of what's missing.

Just spoke with The Great PD, but only for a short time because he was outside and it's freezing in The Shmapple-- 21 degrees this morning. We beat it the hell out of there just in time.

I mis-spoke yesterday, blaming Taylor Swift for the potty-mouth lyrics of Katy Perry. My mistake. When BZ and B-Bone were singing all the songs the other day I hadn't done my due diligence to determine a particular song's origin.

Congress acted. Our worries are over. The republic is preserved. More importantly, Plot and PD got Rhode Island Christmas ties.