Wat Mongkolratanaram NOT

E is incommunicado at her desk as she combs the WWW looking for images of the Thai Temple Sunday Foodfest in Fort Walton Beach at which we were hoping to stuff our faces with delicacies this weekend. Alas, when we arose on Sunday morning, it was just too damn hot to think about hanging around on picnic benches in the temple courtyard, no matter how abundant and varied the food. Unless there's an atypical cold snap this summer, we'll probably have to wait until fall to sample the weekly offerings of the huge FWB Thai community. "Oh well," says E, "I can't find them." They were beautiful and tempting. Maybe another time...

Squeak visited the fancy schmancy vet, and while we liked the woman better than the cat did, at least we ALL had the satisfaction of the consequences: no more fleas! Sad to say, so uneventful was our week, this might have been the high point! Even the French Open is disappointing, since the coverage is meagre and already Venus is out of the Women's Singles competition. At least we each won something at Bingo--and E really scored, hitting what's known as The Big One (tho she had to share with one other person, too bad). We did learn an interesting thing about the locals: for his 21st birthday, Wilson, the guy who did S's pedicure, is being given one-of-the-houses that are owned by his aunt-who-also-owns-the-nail spa. He said, "Now I'll probably have to work for her forever." Turns out that the guy who did E's treatment lives in one of auntie's houses too.

In the neighborhood there has been a tiny bit of excitment: Karen & Frank, behind us, are putting in a pool. S stands on a stool and peers over the fence to keep abreast of progress, but Squeak tromps around the perimeter and even ventures into the pit! The claw marks of the backhoe are a tad unnerving, but seeing the layers of sand and dirt is edifying--that there's actually dirt at all is a bit of a surprise!

Tonite, for supper, a little something from our garden. Tah dah!