September 22
1735 – 1741
I had a big inflatable mattress to sleep on. So of course sleep was nearly impossible. The ceiling was just so… there, and the bed was so wide. My friend made me a huge breakfast. And then we blabbed on for a few hours about how our lives have gone for the last few decades. We figured out that we had been in nearly the same place during the Loma Prieta Earthquake in 1989. She was inside BakeRite Bakery and I was right outside. I don’t remember seeing her there. That place had the best Boston Cremes.
As usual, way too much shopping. What was I thinking with that bunch of broccoli? Ashland is a cool city. Maybe I could live here. There’s a college so maybe rent is expensive? There are plenty of bikes and somehow I sense that there might be a Farmers Market.
My friend offered to jump me forward a bit. I couldn’t come up with a good reason to say no. It was cold as soon as I got out of the car. My bag was super fiddley and too full. To make more room, I sat down and ate one of my pies. BTW, Franz Pies come from Ashland.
Why did I buy so much food? I feel bad when I scare birds at night. I worry that they get spooked and fly away and then get lost. I read once that some birds can’t see very well at night. Near the campground I smelled fresh skunk. I bet some campers’ dog got sprayed and someone is going to have a miserable ride home.
Spinstera 