Over dinner on July 6 we were saying we wished all weekends could be four days. That’s why I thought my mom had the perfect schedule, back in the ’90s when she ran a small library at Braddock Hospital, now UPMC Braddock – oops I guess now closed, UPMC Braddock from 1996-2009. Mom retired in 2000, but before that her schedule was Tuesday to Thursday, every weekend was 4 days.
We were lamers with no 4th of July plans again this year. On Wednesday, the night before the 4th, after work I went and had a few beers with the librarians on the terrace, then picked up my CSA box. We had tacos for dinner: flour tortillas, meat & pico de gallo from the previous weekend, grated cheese, and since the box had summer squash and zucchini in it, calabacitas on the side.
On the 4th itself, we had apple pie for breakfast. I went for a bike ride – my first time out on the cannonball trail this summer. It was hot, but I didn’t get rained on – that came later. We had NOT bbq for dinner – barbecue tempeh on home made buns with coleslaw and potato salad. We had ice cream with strawberry sauce and blueberries for dessert and, golly, looks like we had the very same thing, maybe not for July 4th, but sometime in the summer, two years ago.
Next morning, the Friday of our 4-day weekend, I baked big batches of two kinds of muffins, zucchini, and corn with fresh corn kernels. I figured we could have them for breakfast and then I would take what was left to Goodman, for the Tuesday breakfast. Along with the rhubarb ones and banana streusel ones currently in the freezer, I just counted and there are 66 muffins now, which is almost enough – maybe I’ll make a dozen of another kind Monday night.
Before I started in muffin baking I went for a walk. I stopped to talk to a neighbor who I saw loading boxes of papers into his car, and I was glad I did because I was able to advise him on donating books – that had been left with him by another family – to the university library.
I had my muffin for breakfast with yogurt with strawberry sauce.
I went to get my license renewed, out at their new facility on the far west side, and I guess the picture’s not too bad, although I didn’t realize it had so much double chin until I photographed the photo. It’s the receipt they give you to use for a license until your new license comes in the mail. I was going to bike, but got so sticky just out for the walk that I decided I didn’t need to spend the next 8 years with a photo where I’m all sweaty and helmet hair, so I drove and went grocery shopping after.
My photo was taken by one of the other clerks; I was wondering if the regular photographer, Michael who used to trade Dead tapes with Jeff, was still there. He must’ve been on break or something because he came back while I was waiting for my spot at the next window. I felt like I should go say, “Hi” – afterall, it worked so well with that other person, in the morning – but there never seemed a good time to go. He always had other customers getting photographed. He was so cheery, thanking people for coming to see them, at the crowded DMV on a Friday that lots of people had off, that I felt bad for not peeking in.
I was going to make garlic scape & basil pesto, and cilantro pesto, using up more stuff from the box, but I decided I didn’t want to make a big dinner, so we had sandwiches and coleslaw, then went to see Alejandro Escovedo. Again thought we might bike, but we drove, instead – the show didn’t start until 9:00 and there was an opening act, so we didn’t get home till 12:30. There was a brand new crescent moon we could see in the sky from the driveway, when we left.
Alejandro was worth staying up late for. I think I need to get his most recent album, The Crossing, immigrant experience & punk rock. I have the one right before, Burn Something Beautiful, with Peter Buck and Scott McCaughey.
Saturday we finally did bike to the Farmers’ Market and got rained on for our diligence, although the bikes, parked outside the public library, got it worse then us. We were safe and dry having breakfast at Colectivo. We met Belinda and Stephen and he was going to buy us breakfast at Poindexter’s, the coffee place in the hotel where he works. First we noticed they were out of avocado toast, and Belinda said she could eat something else, one of the other breakfast sandwiches. Stephen said, “No avocado toast? What kind of millennial are you”, and then we found out they were out of eggs, too. So, we decamped to Colectivo and had breakfast burritos, and waited for the rain to stop, or at least slack off. My helmet was wet enough to drip down my face when I put it on, and my panniers and one of my grocery tote bags are still on the clothes-drying rack in the basement.
I was tired because we’d been out late Friday, and I’d had two beers (Surly Hell, their pale-gold lager, which comes in 16 oz. cans and is 5% abv) so Saturday afternoon I spent a bit of time lying on the couch, resting, where I was joined by a strange glowing presence.
I got up and made the pestos; I think the cilantro, with cashews, is actually tastier than the garlic scape and basil. We had the latter for Saturday dinner on penne, with roasted tomatoes, and romaine salad, and garlic toast. We opted to stay in for TV instead of a movie, and watched an episode of Good Omens.
The heat broke Saturday and it was a lot cooler though rainy. By Sunday morning, it was beautiful. I baked a ladyfinger cake to fill with pastry cream and berries to take to Jane’s for dinner. (we got 2 quarts of nice strawberries at the market, and Saturday, when I went to Whole Foods Saturday to get more penne to match the end of the bag that Anna had left me, and I needed more garlic anyways, I picked up some nice blueberries) We’re getting together with them before they move Portland OR for a year, to help their daughter with her new twins, that are due the beginning of August. The daughter, who’s single and in her late 30s, had planned to have a baby on her own, it’s the twins that were a surprise.
When the cake was done, my helmet was dry, and I biked to the east side to check out what bike paths are closed on my route to Goodman. Of course, my ride took a bit longer than I thought it would, but my exercise calculator using the GPS in my phone says burned 501 calories, and I was home in time to make breakfast to eat in front of the US winning the women’s World Cup. I got to see the players getting their awards, although somehow I can’t find the animated gif I saw just yesterday, of Megan Rapinoe kicking two soccer balls at Trump, the first of which hits him in the nuts, and the second blows him away.
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