What A Treat!

Yesterday was filled with the best in a "box of chocolates" (Forrest Gump, 1994), starting for Michael with a tractor working in the vineyard to the west.  If there isn't anything going on at the winery, a noisy tractor moving slowly up and down the rows is the next best thing and we watched it quite a while.  Michael is such an undemanding dog, it doesn't take much to please him.

We both got a tremendous treat when George drove up with, what else?, treats!  Treats for both of us.  Mine, of course, was seeing my friend again so soon (but wait, there's more!).  Michael was also happy and it had nothing to do with the pocketful of Michael-sized treats George brought, knowing how the dog had dealt with the big-boy biscuit.  George handed me a grocery bag that was so heavy I almost dropped it...10 pounds of boneless chicken breasts and 10 pounds of fresh mozzarella!  Pounds, I say!  I've been noshing my way through the goodies he'd brought before, gorging on salamis and marinated fresh, crisp green beans and more.  Now visions of Chicken Parmesan flew into my head.  No, wait...I'm out of Parmesan.  That's okay, I can fake it, and there's always Chicken Piccata, and so much more.

While standing in the walkway at the recommended distance (no hugging), I noticed that the lilac bushes were a day away from full bloom.  Their perfume wafting through the kitchen window is a treat all their own.  I wish George could have stayed longer.

I haven't shopped for groceries since before the shutdown began (nor, thanks to George, needed to), but even then only bought the essentials.  Essentials, in this case, means kitty litter and treats for all the four-leggeds.  My life wouldn't be worth a plugged nickel should I run out of those goodies.   They all know exactly when, where, and what they want.  I just go along with the program.

As I've mentioned, the tree crews have been working their way up our road, leaving the fallen trunks to be disposed of later.  I applauded Neighbor Joe, whom we saw on our last walk of the day, picking up a truckload of logs for firewood.  They would just be chipped for disposal anyway, and it certainly saves Joe the hard work of going up into the woods with a chainsaw.

I saw that my disappearing squirrels have moved south to Fiddletown, evidently the Florida of the foothills.  Dare I laugh?

It was a four-star day all around.

Stay safe.  Be well.