Yesterday I made a trip to the bank to deposit a check. As I walked to the bank’s entrance, there was a 30-something woman walking ahead of me, and into the bank. I wouldn’t have noticed her except for the fact that SHE WAS WEARING HER PAJAMAS. I’m not mistaken. These were not just a t-shirt and those comfy flannel pants that I occasionally see people wear out in public that cause me to be slightly aghast. No my friends, these were full-out pajamas. They were lavender and had little teddy bears on them. Now, there have been a few times when I have caught myself just in the nick of time from leaving the house wearing my bedroom slippers. But it seems unlikely to me that she simply forgot she was wearing her pajamas. It must have taken her no time at all to get ready for bed last night.
Four Score and Seven Years Ago
After I finished my banking yesterday, I went to the nearby pho restaurant to eat my lunch. I believe I could eat pho three times a week and not get sick of it, and I’m not even Vietnamese. I frequently eat lunch there and read a book while slurping my noodles. I am currently reading the next in a series by Louise Penney featuring Chief Inspector Armand Gamache. The series is one of my favorites and I would like Gamache to be one of my friends. He is smart, kind, and extremely elegant. In the book, Gamache said that he hadn’t seen someone in over a fortnight. A fortnight. I want to use that word sometime in my real life. Like maybe when I’m getting a pedicure and I want to make an appointment for a couple of weeks down the road. I could say, “Do you have an opening available in a fortnight?” Or maybe not. It’s a good word, though, isn’t it? I would have to work on my British accent.
Hide and Seek
On Tuesday, Dagny and Maggie Faith and I went out geocaching, the high-tech hide and seek game that Jen and I are crazy about. I’m pleased that some of my grandchildren share my love for this particular hobby. They are game for anything and fairly efficient searchers. They are certainly dedicated. Unfortunately, my cell phone – which acts as my GPS and connects to the geocaching website – wasn’t working correctly. As a result, I was unable to use it to help find the hidden treasures. It didn’t deter the girls one little bit. That’s probably because they don’t really understand how the caches get there anyway. It’s all a great mystery to them. I was able to determine that there was a cache located somewhere just inside a tunnel in a nearby park through which a tiny little stream was flowing. I’m calling it a tiny little stream in a valient attempt to convince myself that it wasn’t sewage. Anyway, we searched and searched to no avail. Dagny begged me – BEGGED ME – to let her walk through the long tunnel to the other side to see if it was there. I wouldn’t let her do that. “Why not?” she asked me with the most pitiful face imaginable. I explained that I didn’t really understand the purpose of the tunnel, and that I didn’t want her in the middle of it when some Denver water official decided to open up a spigot and the stream turned into a river. She was sad, but became less sad when I told them that one of my traditions of geocaching was going to Sonic afterwards and getting a slushy. In fact, the slushies turned into milkshakes, and they were both happy campers despite our geocaching failure.
Can’t Get Enough
So Bill and I are now absolutely HOOKED on biscotti. We can’t seem to get enough. Yesterday afternoon I made a batch, but decided to shake it up a bit by adapting a recipe I’d seen on Pinterest for Cinnamon Biscotti. I used the recipe I posted on Wednesday for Cranberry and Pistachio Biscotti, but instead of adding the dried cranberries and chopped pistachios, I formed the loaf and basted it with a beaten egg, then sprinkled it heavily with cinnamon sugar. After I cut the individual cookies, I sprinkled them also with cinnamon sugar. They are delicious. They taste like a hard, dunkable snickerdoodle. Yum.