May 27th, 2010



Mushrooms were on sale at Safeway. I now have more mushrooms than you can shake a steak at. sorry. To acquire them I had to go out in torrential rain. It was quite splendid to see, but quite unpleasant to feel when going between store to car. Semi-soaked, I have brought my fungal bounty home and now must decide how to prepare the first batch of it for dinner. Decisions, decisions.

Potatoes were uncommonly cheap as well, and mayonnaise was a bargain, so there'll soon be an abundance of potato salad, not to mention goatloads of other potato-laden repasts. In fact, but for the occasional supplement of fruits, vegetables, and milk I'll be needing, there's now probably enough food on hand to keep me stuffed for a couple of weeks. The local farmer's market resumes this coming Tuesday, its long seasonal hiatus ended at last, so I expect the supermarkets to reduce prices on those items it stocks to meet the competition. All this means that my food budget, which I have reached or exceeded frequently for the last few months, will probably be lower, thus arresting for a time my slide into poverty. Plus, melons, soon!

The torrential rain has abated for now, though the sky has returned to gray following a brief outburst of bright sun that made steam rise from the wet rooftops, the wisps of vapor mingling with smoke from chimneys. The poppies and sourgrass blossoms have been closed all day, adding to the wintry atmosphere. But the forecast says that the temperature could nudge 80 degrees Sunday. We could be in for a seasonal whiplash, going from glistening raindrops to glistening sweat in a weekend. This is being a strange year.
caillebotte_man at his window


The nursing home called a while ago to let me know that my mother died this evening. The call was not unexpected. The last few times I've visited her she was obviously in rapid decline, growing ever more frail. Since early this week she had barely been able to realize that anyone was there, and would fall asleep after a few words had been exchanged with her visitors or the nurses. At least her last few weeks were not troubled, as my dad's had been. She was usually calm, and as comfortable as could have been expected given her age and her many ailments, and told visitors "Don't worry about me." As I had recently come to expect, she died a few weeks short of what would have been her 95th birthday. She had a long life, and most of it was good. Rest In Peace, Mom. We'll miss you.