Last weekend an outdoor store here called The Prospector had their yearly sale. We went in to see if a brand of pants Sergio likes happened to be included in the sale. We walked out with new winter boots for Rosalind and me. And a Woolrich sweater with owls. For me. That I didn’t really need. But the savings! I couldn’t pass it up. I still can’t get over how much we paid for those three items. Nothing! I can’t wait until they do it again next year. One can never have too many owl sweaters.
My smoothies are back on track. I suppose the stomach stuff was a tiny seed shard issue after all because I’ve been totally fine since switching fruits. Mostly the smoothies are spinach. Like more than half spinach. So basically, I am drinking spinach milk. If you were to ask me if I would like some spinach milk I would definitely say, “no, thanks, Satan!” Yet I drink it every morning, and it’s pretty tasty. Smoothies are weird.
The stars must have aligned in a particular way the other day and everyone got the same message that it was time to deep plow the snow pack that has lived on the roads and parking lots all winter. This is what everywhere looks like now.
So purty. It’s hard to show scale, but notice how the mounds rise well above the hood of my car.