This week has been nine days long already. It started with the marathon yardwork on Sunday, then the advent of seasonal allergies, a night in a bad bed (grand, my ass), almost three hundred miles on the road, and a lot of damn cranky people. I feel like I can hardly drag myself around by the time I come home. Regis really likes tofu so I put some in the marinade tonight but we realized it takes a long time for the flavors to seep into that rubber, I mean tofu. So we got some really unhealthy chicken at a franchise that will remain nameless. It's against the laws of nature to say the name of this place in the same paragraph with tofu.
One of the big grocery stores in Mankato sends out an ad once in a while. My favorite summer wines was on sale in the last brochure so Regis made a special trip over to get a bottle. The manager said they don't carry it because they don't have room and seemed to think that was reasonable. Regis got a burr under his saddle and sent a letter to the store, telling them how much we like so many other things about their store, but not this particular thing: That they don't sell the wine that they picture in their ad. Well, he got three phone calls today: One from the vice-president of la-dee-da, one from the chairman in charge of wine in ads, and one from the new manager of the liquor store. They didn't really want to do anything for us, which was fine. We were just making a point and I guess they heard it.
My neighbor gave me five little potted plants today. Two tomatoes, two zinnias, and an Italian pepper. I think he was trying to make up for borrowing my tiller and leaving it out in the rain for a week. My other neighbor with the lawn tractor came over and mowed my yard. I delivered a few dirty looks to my husband and son, as in, "Go deal with that SOB" but they wouldn't. We like to have a small carbon footprint and here is this guy blowing enough carbon to light New Delhi just to mow my boulevard. It wasn't long enough to mow yet anyway. Yard freaks. Harrumph. Oh yeah, then he brings over a gas-powered blower to blow the clippings off my sidewalk. That is not a high enough priority in my life on which to waste petroleum products.
Somebody is going to have to take it up with this guy and it might be me. I realize he's trying to be nice, really I do. I'm just nuts about this kind of thing.