I went to the grocery store with the really strange staff and had the strangest bagger. I think he's the guy who once asked me in the parking lot if I could see him when he wasn't wearing his orange safety vest. Today, it's rather warm, and his way of saying farewell to me was to tell me not to freeze out there. The checker was of some Eastern European origin, and it seemed like her way of calling me "miss" was to call me "little girl." It took me aback at first, but then I noticed her accent and her nametag and I figured out what she was trying to say and found it rather charming.
My real joy of the day was that the French bread had just come out of the oven, and it was still warm. I had to nibble a bit on the way home before it cooled off.
And now I've realized that I did my usual shopping of buying "ingredients," and I still don't have anything quick and easy to make. But the soup will last me for days, and I think I'm going to make a pesto and roasted red pepper pizza tomorrow night. If I get really desperate, I can go to the Indian market and get some kind of curry sauce to go with chicken. Or I could get a takeout curry from one of the nearby restaurants.
Now I may actually get some writing done this afternoon, since my morning exertions (and the holdover from last night's exertions) have left me too tired to do much else.