Motel 42 on Route 66

At my apartment overnight and today, I found lots to do.  I got paid, paid a bill, ordered some basic health and food staples to be shipped from Target, potted a few of the larger hydroponic herbs, walked up to DollarTree to get more of the bare necessities on my list, and other puttery.  [Puttery: the art of puttering.]  Also, I finally relented and turned on the AC a little for the first time this season, just to clear the stuffy, humid air from the latest tsunami.

[Eccentric aside: I’ve started to think of my apartment as a motel.  I’m one of those weird people who likes motels, no matter how modest, or even a little seedy.  It’s like a blank slate, and appears clean and orderly, if you don’t look too closely.  It’s efficient and convenient for spending short periods of time in.  You can put your own temporary personal touches on it, but since it’s not really yours, you can’t make significant changes or claims to it.  You’re just passing through, so you don’t get too attached or bogged down.  It’s like a homey space away from home.  Neutral but cozy and private.  It even has its own dicey ice machine!  The only difference is, I do the “cleaning” myself, and the only downside is, noisy bigfoot neighbors, but you get used to it.]

Anyways… later, Avdi picked me up to come spend the night at his place.  He made spaghetti and meatballs with fresh herbs from the garden, and I made a big fresh salad from same, with a homemade balsamic dressing.  I want to point out that as you may recall, these mountains of leafy greens of all kinds started their lives as tiny seedlings in tiny cells in flats in my tiny apartment (or motel room, as it were) propagation station!  I think that’s pretty damn cool.


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