hot potato, cool weather

The heat has died…ding-dong. We’ve had rain over the last two nights and it’s continuing to be cool through the days. This lovely turn of events means two things: I’m not grumpy and I don’t have to water the outside flowers. I lead a simple life.

I was walking to the Ballston Metro this morning, listening to This American Life on the iPod, and suddenly came upon a baked potato on the sidewalk. I’m on a sidewalk near a church that’s nowhere near any gathering of family garbage cans or garbage pick up areas. The complete potato is laying about a foot-and-a-half from the opened sheet of foil, something that all Midwesterners recognize from our evenings of meatloaf and baked potatoes. I think those coastal towns and cities tend to bypass the foil when baking, philistines. The potato was whole and hadn’t yet been considered for toppings; the foil was completed and appeared to have been unrolled, not torn. How did this happen? It clearly hadn’t been thrown from a passing car, who would do that? Of course, it makes little sense for someone walking to drop the potato in disgust. Did someone grab some leftovers from the ‘fridge on the dash out of the house this morning (or last night)? Maybe they were running late and took the first foil wrapped object they came across. Halfway to the Metro they peel back the foil and realize that this solid oval-shaped item is damn baked potato…a baked potato! You can’t eat a plain, dry baked potato while walking – you’d look stupid. Though if you were sneaky you could drive along in your car and munch on a whole potato, especially if you’re hungry and aren’t sitting at a traffic light. That’s why the tossing from the car was eliminated from suspicion. I guess the frustration of a cold, dry, plain baked was too much for them and they couldn’t wait for a garbage can. Damn the potatoes…damn the potatoes.

I’m heading up to Stowe tomorrow morning for five days vacation. Unfortunately, this year’s rental doesn’t have a ping-pong table in the basement and I think X finds this inadequate. I don’t need to spend any more time slaughtering the Goepp clan with my freakish paddling skills. We’ll make due with hiking, swimming, sitting in the hot tub, and surprisingly rousing matches of badminton.

I suspect computer access is limited; you’ll know soon enough.

Love to all.

T.