Frida is going strong. I have a lump in my throat, though, as she sees her ophthalmologist on Monday. My sense is she’s better but not healed. That’d mean three more weeks of medicine 12 times daily and the cone. Frida’s patience is running out. I hope my patience and compassion outlast her ulcers.
Step right up and you can be the 316th viewer of Eleanor Friedberger’s concert at the Cidade da Cultura, Gaiás, Santiago de Compostela. Except the folks who saw it live. Sounds like there were about a dozen of them.
Last week we skipped ritual pizza because of passover. Then we ordered pizza from Little Anthony’s despite passover. It has been one of those kind of passovers. As in the rituals are passing right over us. I added onion rings to the order even though I know they are not vegan. The order taker called me on it and I assured her I knew what I was getting into (or getting some chickens into, more accurately). I am not perfect. I “needed” onion rings. The order taker said they are looking for vegan alternatives. I thanked her. Tomorrow night we’ll “break” passover with the leftover Little Anthony’s. Pizza made by someone else is awesome.
I’m wrung out. Work is overabundant. I want to quit, buy this and go into hiding on US highways. But I won’t and that’s wonderful and terrible all at the same moment.
This seems a bit overpriced but I wouldn’t be ashamed to pay it (and neither should you). Imagine what you would get at a bike shop for that amount of scratch. And life isn’t about getting good deals. And pretty bikes are better than good deals.
P.S. Vya vermouth makes spooky good Manhattans and tastes swell alone in a glass as well. Buy it if you see it.