I came home Friday last, greeted my cat, went through the mail and turned the calendar page. I am slammed by August; it will be one wild ride. Laura is in her band camp all week; Emily has marching band practice two nights, and we are visiting two colleges this week. Next week is equally crazy, including a day and a half trip with Linda for each of us to purchase weaving supplies. Then school starts—the upside of this craziness is the children will be out of school by the end of May.
Long ago I had a friend, an engineer, a Polish native. He and his wife emigrated via a trip over the Berlin Wall. He loved the vastness of this country and delighted in showing the sights to visiting friends. He included the entire country in a week. The Statue of Liberty, the Golden Gate Bridge and back to Ohio via Baton Rouge. “We saw them,” he said. I called it the Stan Dombrowsky school of driving: “Go like hell until you come up on the guy ahead of you, pass him, do it over again.”
The wind blew lightly all week, and all the crops moved in the wind.
This is Perc Place in Hartford.
It is women owned and operated.
It has grown too big for its britches and is moving to a new accommodation next week.
Not to worry; it's just two doors down on Main Street.
It reminds me of another favorite restaurant, Lynn's Paradise Cafe in Louisville, Kentucky.
All the fittings seem to come from you grandmother's house.
Lynn's, sadly, is no longer in business.
The food is nice--wraps, panini, hummus, cucumber cream cheese--all the millennial stuff.
The hall to the ladies and gents has not changed in all these years
Alice down the rabbit hole (?) on one side,
Ladies gowns and hats on the other.
And on the inside:
Yes, that's my cane.
I wanted a peek in the gent's, but Ann would not stand guard.