I got up late to a phone call from someone from the city checking in about the new parking lot on 12th and Cherry, and did a mighty good job of pretending I hadn't just awakened from a very intense dream about my friend Ann Donovan (who was telling me the conditions for being friends with her again - a situation I'd love to occur in real life) and trying to rescue our many board games from the clutches of an unscrupulous storage facility owner. After that call and breakfast, I spent (wow!) two and a half hours working in the yard. I've planted all the gladiolas now, but there are STILL dahlias waiting to go.

Now I'm thinking about going to swim at Denny Blaine for a while before my trip to Megan's Central Style (now located in the white-trashiest part of Seattle - and I think "Megan's South-Western Style" would be a right pretty moniker) and I've got some macaroni and cheese a-cooking on the stove for my little peek neek. Will I accompany it with Ezell's Chicken or a tuna fish sandwich? Only time and the condition of the bread in the fridge will tell.