Rabbit Wire, Pancakes and Watermelon

It'll get another chance next week.

After rehearsing again for tomorrow, and getting cleaned up, we headed over to IFA to check on some wire to line the growboxes.  (Those dudes that cleaned out the lilacs also dug out the sites for the growboxes for The Husband, saving him hours and hours of stress on his back.  YAY!)

Figuring we'd have to head across the valley to the b-i-g IFA, were pleasantly surprised our local IFA had some rabbit wire.  We hope that it'll be too much of an obstacle for the gophers to chew through and the veggies we'll grow will survive for our enjoyment.

Finished with the paying, measuring, cutting and loading we set off in search of some food. Gave The Original Pancake House another try.  I honestly can't say that I've ever before had a server assume what I wanted.  Ordered the Hawaiian pancakes (they're small, unlike some restaurants) - described in the menu as a stack of 6.  The Husband requested the Georgia Pecan pancakes with banana on top (extra $.95).  The table next to us that ordered tons of food (she brought out 7 plates for the two of them) were eating long before our two plates of pancakes arrived.

My plate held three small pancakes.  The Husband's a waffle.  True, his had the pecans and a few banana discs, but a waffle nonetheless.  And was assured that was what he'd ordered.

Decided to review the menu before exiting and yup, The Husband ordered pancakes.  And I received a half order of pancakes.  Somehow she assumed that's what I wanted, I guess.  There's no other explanation.  The manager (we only talked to him because he was hanging around) wanted to make a big deal out of it, I simply wanted clarification.  (If they aren't aware they've got a problem, they can't fix it.  If I were a manager I'd want to know.)

Before.

After a couple other stops we landed at the grocery for a watermelon, cantaloupe and a few fresh carrots for noshing.  The Husband has a thing about watermelon; always wants his partaking to re-play his fondest watermelon memories from his youth.  Which experience has been sadly lacking. He walked in, picked up a 21 pounder and nothing would persuade him to choose a different /smaller one. And I admit, he chose wisely.

After.  And YUM!

It took us no time at all to polish off some pieces.  We've a lot in the fridge waiting for our forks, and shared about half with some neighbors.  (I can't possibly eat all that in the next few days - The Husband is in CA this week.)

All in all, a Saturday of strange encounters:  waitresses, restaurant managers, grocery store clerks, tv salesmen.  I must be giving off some bring-it-on-I-can-take-whatever-you've-got vibe today.  I'm completely out of step.

But I'm still grateful.  For thoughtful and thought-provoking columns in the newspaper.  For perfect watermelon.  For someone that cares what kind of day I have.  And for hope.