I’ve been pickling all morning. Our cucumbers crop is going nuts, for the first time in a LONG time. I got a batch ready for making dill pickles and a batch ready for sweet and sour pickles. Boil this, boil that–it’s hot, sweaty work, and I feel very virtuous. I forgive myself the blueberry pancakes with maple syrup and fried ham I had for breakfast.

My husband and I are going to get glasses today. We always bundle as many errands as possible into any trip, especially a trip to “the big city”, which is anyplace with more than 6,000 people. So my mother is coming with us, and we’re going to the craft store, the BIG grocery (not Wall-Blart), the gigantic pet supply store, the while-u-wait eyewear place and a furniture store that’s having a scratch-n-dent sale.

My husband has his heart set on dining room furniture. We don’t have a dining room, mind you. We have a couple of tables we keep pushed up against various walls in the family room, and pull them out when we have family parties. He wants a nice table and matching chairs. Bless him, if he wants it, we’ll get it–he’s the best guy in the world (and no, he doesn’t read this).

Writing exercise: You go out on a series of errands. A series of seemingly unconnected things happen until, at the centerpiece of your shopping trip, they all come together and result in your going home with something other than what you came for. Can be major or trivial.

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