So, Mr. B’s Joybox Express is going to Mackinac Island. It is going to St. Ignace by bicycle (not sure how they will get across the Big Mac, which is NORMALLY only open to motorized traffic) and then it will be placed on a barge and towed to the island by SWIMMERS. Mr. B is a local guy and I have various pics of him and his joybox from around town.

And then there’s today’s Lunch Saga. Every day, I pack a bit of lunch in a small pyrex container. My lunch almost always consists of a smidge of leftovers with salad on top. I packed a lunch container last night and put it in the refrigerator, overly proud of myself for getting ahead of the game. This morning I pulled it out and put it into my lunch bag. I was hungry enough to eat my arm at lunchtime and when I finally pulled out my container, it was filled with PESTO!!! Yes. Pesto, which we had with pasta last night and I put the leftover in an identical container to my lunch. I love pesto but there was no way I was going to sit there and eat a container of pesto for lunch! So, I ordered Panera and when I got there to pick it up, I ran into my former neighbor, who probably thinks I am nuts because about the only thing I said to her was, “Do you know where the pick up is?” (It had moved since the last time I ordered from Panera.) Sigh. I was in a hurry but I am also VERY awkward at social interactions, especially unexpected ones.

What else? I was actually looking around for something to do for 15 minutes or so at work today. I actually told FZ about that. And then we had another hi-pri defect meeting and I am uber-busy again.

Speaking of Grand Island, Nebraska… Were we speaking of Grand Island, Nebraska? Maybe not but that’s where FZ landed on his eclipse-chasing quest over the last week. I think I surprised him a bit by saying that I had eaten at the Plastic Cow in Grand Island, Nebraska TWICE! It was on an extended-family ski trip to Steamboat Springs back in the early 1970s and we ate gorgeous steaks at the Plastic Cow on the way out AND the way back. I think. Not sure about the way back. Actually, the restaurant was named Dreisbach’s, not the Plastic Cow, but the sign looked like a plastic cow and that’s what my uncle Duck Duke called it. I have googled the Plastic Cow before and found it to be long closed but I just re-googled it and apparently it was resurrected in 2013.

Oh, and jury duty? A family member has been called, doesn’t matter who. I went through a spate of being called for jury duty left and right but never actually served. It’s been a while and I have probably jinxed myself by saying that on my blahg. I get that it is a civic duty yada yada. I still don’t like it. Why? I AM AN INTROVERT!!!! I do not LIKE to have to be questioned in a place like a courtroom. Why isn’t there an “I am an introvert” checkbox on the “questionnaire”?

Finally, the fuzzy pic? Henry (that’s both singular and plural for backyard rabbit(s) that are not afraid of people) is eating my apples! It could be worse. MMCB₁ encountered FOUR bucks in her yard this morning. They were munching on leaves, not apples.

Oh, hahahahaha! The GG apparently has a motor bote registered through 1919! Yay!

Good night,
Kayak Woman

P.S. It is August and I am sitting in the backyard waiting for leftovers to heat up (and watching Henrys eat my apples). I am comfortable wearing Smartwool socks and a polartech jacket.

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