The Some Year Day

Just got back from taking Irish for a brisk walk, and coming round the front of my building when some guy standing in the driveway, doing what I do not know, says, “so, taking the dog for a walk”? To which I replied: No, and kept walking.

That should have him wondering.

Happy New Years 2018

Ok, sore tired feet and a few days off, and decided Saturday that I needed to get some Epson Salts so I could soak them over the next few days. Well, so off to the organic shop down the street, as the pharmacy didn’t have any, which meant it was more expensive, because of course “natural” tacks on $3 to their value.

Is there such a thing as “unnatural” Epson Salts? The blurb on the back says they were brought up from some sacred spot deep in the earth, or some such. Anywho, whilst perusing the shelves of “natural” fare 2x the price of the “unnatural” versions I buy elsewhere, and I came across some dried black-eyed peas, and I heard something whisper, “pssstttt, wanna make this year ‘some year”? So I did. And here we are.

This year.

And, in some drunken haze last night, I actually managed to throw them into a bowl to soak overnight! Yeah me.

Waaayyyy ahead of the curve, so far. Way way ahead.

So black-eyed peas bubbling away this New Years Day, just as I plan to do every year, but I don’t. I can smell that prosperity, and garlic and onions and celery, and it’s a wonderful aroma.

Last night was spent at D3s listening to I think almost every sappy song they made in the 60’s & 70’s, and after about two cassette tapes worth of one-hit wonders and otherwise that defined our respective childhood hit parade, we decided to move on to Robbie Robertson. At around 12:15AM we found ourselves, while not “down at Nick’s Cafe”, certainly with pints in our paws, toasting in the New Year.

We parted ways somewhere in the bank parking lot, and I got to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour or would have been reasonable somewhere. Enough reason that the smell of all that success and other goodness doesn’t make me wanna hurl, so that’s another good start.

Having got off to such a splendid beginning, of course, something had to go sidewise, so I promptly went and fricken forgot to bring my key with me when I walked Irish and locked myself out of my apartment. So, back I went around the block to D3’s, rousted him from a nap, and dragged him over to help me get back in. Then, realized I’d left my camera at his place, so back I go to get it, and back through the bitter wind I trudged home, again.

Sitting here now, resting my feet in a bucket with the ‘natural’ Epsom Salts, whilst eating my black-eyed peas watching a sappy love story with Diane Keaton (her presence makes it acceptable). Didn’t get enough schmaltz I suppose last night. Happy 2018, hope it is fab-tab-ulous.

(btw, I really didn’t say ‘no’ to that guy out front, I just wished I had; idiot).

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