I’ve been taking a lot of walks lately. I took a walk with my friend who matches a stop sign:
Please eat a piece of pie in my honor soon because my life is crumbling like a cookie and I need to know that there are people still enjoying rhubarb and flaky crust in the world. I’m thinking if we ever open a diner we can serve a turkey sandwich with strawberry rhubarb jam and we can call it the “turkey Barbara” after your mom and on account of the “barb” part in rhubarb.
I guess everyone feels like they live in a washing machine at this time of year. Spinning and tossing and swirling.
A lady said to me today that you can wash leeks in the dishwasher rather than hand-washing them. She said it so matter-of-factly but I told her it doesn’t make any sense and that it would take way too long. She said that truth be told, she doesn’t own a dishwasher so she doesn’t really know, but it seems about right. I also doubt that she’s ever eaten a leek.
Spend some extra time in the California sand for me when you get a chance. I’d appreciate it.