Wit, Wisdom & Wonder

Still a wee bit sunburned, but Burt's Bees After Sun Soother is doing a wonderful job so there's no pain or tightness. I'm nursing a sore left knee from yesterday's ride and my ribs are a bit sore, as well. The former I understand as I've had trouble with that knee for years, the latter is likely from sitting for hours on the bike. Speaking of motorcycles, the town is absolutely awash with them. The unseasonably warm and bright day has led a couple hundred bikers to attend a Poker Ride organized by the local At Risk adolescent program. Josh spent most of his morning attending, me I slept in. Gloriously so. I'm of the age where sleeping in takes precedence over nearly everything: food, sex, the company of good friends and even a good book. Yes, I am a heretic. Proudly so.

Despite the searing 68F degree heat, I have Flash in the store with me. He's set up in the chair alternating between Girly Patrol and napping. Not a bad way for a basset to spend the afternoon.

Speaking of this afternoon, poor Josh and Kevin (the notorious Chicken) are supposedly busy putting in the crossbeams to Bunhalla's entry and moving the duck hutch. I have my suspicions that I'll be lucky to find the hutch dutifully moved, but I have some hope that the two crossbeams (or at least one) will be installed by the time Flash and I head home.

Picy goodness hopefully to come!

Another foggy Sunday. Pulled out of the driveway and through the neighborhood, I could only see a dozen or so yards in front of the car. The trees always look so picturesque, the cows and alpaca look like they are levitating in the mists. Small wraiths twisted and danced on the pavement, dispersed by unknown forces. These are the mornings I adore living here on the Rock.

As I head into town, the fog clears somewhat to one tenth of a mile. If the fog isn't clear, the boaters won't risk stopping at our town's dock and we'll have a slow day at the store without them. I haven't seen any today, though we've had a few sailors newly stationed at the Naval Air Station drop in. Gods bless the sailors and their war novels, they are the bread and butter of our store.

I'm expecting yesterday's shy pagan gal to drop in again. She was in a near panic, whispering that she wanted something pagan. I sent her home with a good basics book and our PNO card. Summoning her bravery, she joined last night. We'll see if they make it to a meeting.

Flash, of course, is delightful and working the windows with all he's got. Wearing his cute little snoopy hoodie, he's quite the sight. Folks keep stopping to coo at him, ladies and gentlemen in their Sunday best, families in their sweats and fleece.

A note to friends: there's a lovely new book called "The Green Beauty Guide" by Julie Gabriel. Not only does it dissect the ingredients in our environment, on our skin, deodorants, toothpaste, etc. it offers healthy, homemade alternatives. It also warns readers against organic products that aren't organic, and mainstream ones that are oddly even safer. It's not a "shock and awe" kind of book, but rather presents the good and the bad, offers advice, warnings and guidelines in a gentle, engaging manner.

With any luck, we'll sell some books and make some new friends.