Crazy thunderstorms rolled through in the middle of the night. Lightning strikes every second for what seemed like half an hour, a lull, then it fired up again. I got up to unplug the sensitive electronics and when I returned to bed Frida jumped up and curled in the space between my knees and chest. Even though she was shaking the bed with fear panting and had horrible breath, I cherished every moment. She never spoons and I got thirty minutes of closeness with her. Score!
I pulled half the cabbages from two rows at the garden to give room to the remaining heads. Just between you and I, I also wanted to limit the cabbage harvest. Too much sauerkraut otherwise. This year needs to be the year of kimchi, as we have maybe 20 pints in the basement fridge. Ask for one and you’ll get two. Seriously! Please!
I just fried potatoes in coconut oil and then sautéed the baby cabbages I culled with onions, garlic, mushrooms and yellow squash. The lot, along with some Diaya, will fill tortillas to be covered with tomato salsa I cooked up just before frying the potatoes. Not even noon and dinner is nearly done. Score!
Yesterday I biked five big bags of clothes and shoes to the donation box. Nice to give the closet some room to breathe. Today I biked a FedEx package to a new to me drop box. The new drop box saves me a ride up a four lane racetrack off of which the former drop box was located. Much less stressful now. I haven’t taken any long rides since this spring (and even those were only long by my standards). Too much work. Too much heat. Only little trips on the black ANT with the Velosteel coaster brake hub. I went to a party on Saturday and talked bikes with someone I had just met. They asked how many miles I bike in a week. I guessed fourteen. I wonder what they thought. No matter. Fourteen are plenty for me.
Three hundred and fifty-eight words are plenty, too. If you don’t mind, I’ll be moving on.