Farewell, Fave Thrift Store

I was devastated to read the sign posted at door to my favorite Salvation Army store this afternoon: today was their last day in business! I always had good luck at that store. My farewell tour around the few remaining racks of clothes, shelves of books, and sad table of household odds and ends was no exception. I walked out with three tops and a hobnail milkglass ashtray that's big enough to serve as a saucer for one of my houseplants for a buck and a half. Sigh. I had to console myself with an exploratory visit to the fresh doughnut place across the street (only OK for the old fashioned, but superior marks for the plain cake--now I don't have to wait for the Wilbur sojourns to get my donut fix. Though that may not be a good thing…).

Guess there's nothing for it but to search for a new favorite thrift store.

In other random news:

Thursday was my ninth work anniversary. My, how time flies. Sorry I don't have anything more than a platitude to share about that milestone at this point in the weekend. Veronica meowing for her evening tuna is distracting me. Well, OK, it's been a learning experience, with the positives and negatives that often accompanies that sort of thing. Sorry, I guess that's not much better, is it?

Weekend culinary inspirations, thanks to Cooks Illustrated: ciabatta and "emergency" chocolate cake (an update of the WWII ration recipe).

Looking forward to hearing more from Rebecca about her surgery--we're meeting for writing time tomorrow. Will we actually write or will we just blab? And I need to post a word count for the novel soon...

It didn't rain today like it was supposed to. Which is good and bad. Good, because it made housework more bearable. Bad because, well, we need it.

Confidential (not really) to Kam: it's been an impacted work week, unconducive to blogging. I too have the FB-usurping-the-blogging fear. We must rage, rage against the dying of the light.

OK, off to stir the shallots and prepare for a few episodes of "Flight of the Conchords."