Odd Jobs

This was a week of oddities. S + S are fighting over ownership of the gold pillow. They used to fight over the polka-dot pillow until S gave it over to S entirely. But now, perversely, S doesn't want it anymore.

The confederate jasmine has taken over the south side of the porches, downstairs and up--which we wanted it to do. Clearly, however, it will take over far more than that unless we are assiduous about hacking it back. We are on top of things for the moment, but stay tuned.

S vowed that we would wash the car weekly now that we live in a salt mist 24/7, but it was only on Tuesday, several months after our move, that we went in search of The Executive Car Wash, reputed to be the best in the area. Google Maps sez that it's on Old/Scenic Hwy 98, so we tootled its length and discovered instead a beach that seems to E almost lost in time, with deco-ish condos, quaint motels, ancient-seeming restaurants (including a crab joint perched above a wooden public access shelter) and a proximity of the water to the road that makes it hard to focus on one's driving. Pictures would be nice, we know, be we were on a mission. Another time. Never found the car wash: turns out it's on the new Hwy 98 and we've driven past it a million times and never seen it. Next week!

On Friday, Harold came by to deliver some packages he'd kindly retrieved from the front porch of our old house, and we belatedly celebrated his birthday. He's in the area with old friends who yearly have an autumn reunion here in SoWal. Tonight we're joining them for supper at their big house near Eastern Lake--looking forward! And on his way home, Harold will stop by again to stash his kayak in our side yard. We're hoping to figure out a way in which the twists and curves of the scrub oaks can be turned into a reasonable facsimile of a kayak-rack.

Last night we sampled the wonders of a new resto: Enzo's just up 393 a half mile, which is supposed to have the second-best pizza on the beach. Totally AWFUL, a complete and utter Don't Do Again! Only the antipasto was good (tho more a decorated salad than a true antipasto), but the waiter forgot to bring us any bread until our salad was long gone. The pepperoni on E's pizza tasted too "piggy" and the pie had been dusted with a thin layer of super-fine dried parmesan. S's lasagana was drenched in a too-red and grossly congealed sauce; the whole entree tasted a bit like dog food. And the decor: Mama Mia! What hideous murals, funereal drapery, fake flowers, drippy fountains. The music: Tuscany-Rustico. Pathetico!