Lately here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory, we’ve been doing a lot of waiting for phone calls of all sorts, and trying to fit cat physicals and shots in-between trips to Bangor.
Yesterday, I took a break from waiting for phone calls (have I mentioned recently How Very Much I hate phones, talking on phones, and waiting for someone to call me so I can talk to them on the phone?), to do errands in town, and to drive out to Skowhegan to the Maine Grain Alliance, aka, the Grist Mill, to pick up some flour. It was a nice drive, in that it was a sunny, warm day, and Route 201 is in pretty good shape, surface-wise. I had Sirius XM Classic Vinyl station on, and had a fine run of music as I zipped up the road.
Unfortunately, it’s either Mud Season or Pre-Mud and Maine is as ugly as it ever is, with black snow melting into black dirt, dead grass and broken trees all too easy to see, so I can’t say it was a scenic drive, but, still, very nice to get out of the house.
At the Grist Mill I bought a sack of sifted wheat flour and another of Red Fife. I’d hoped for white whole wheat, forgetting that the mill prides itself on its heritage flours. I’m told that Red Fife is an excellent bread flour, and the sifted whole wheat the closest they had to white. Since I was out of flour entirely (which Will Not Do), I took my sacks away with me, picked up a Maine Root root beer at the cafe next door, and drove back to Waterville, much refreshed in spirit, and singing along with the radio.
This morning, we have contractors coming to look at the deck. Indeed, one has already been and gone, and we await — ahem — a phone call from a second, letting us know that he’s incoming.
The cats have settled down after the excitement of Contractor One’s visit. Trooper is in his box on the edge of my desk, Sprite is lounging in the open area between my office and the dining room, and I believe Belle may be supervising Steve.
Steve continues his labors on the next Liaden book, featuring the on-going adventures of Jethri Gobelyn. I’m working on more mundane projects — like having to make a phone call to the plumber about his overdue quote — while the back brain chews over some story stuff I need answers to. . .
. . .and that’s kinda what’s going on, hereabouts.
Today’s headline brought to you by Southern Culture on the Skids: “Camel Walk.” Here’s your link.