I don't know if it's because of the gloomy weather or because I'm trying to go too far on too few lentils, but I don't seem to have much going on upstairs anymore. (Perhaps you've noticed.) I also seem to be puzzled or perplexed by a much greater percentage of the world's phenomena than previously. And that's saying something.
Today it was the Loksmif. I was behind an Econoline van with that vanity tag. I passed on his left, expecting to see a company name on the door, but there was none. Being no fan of advertising, I was of course thrilled on one level not to see any, but also puzzled. If you're going to shell out for a vanity plate that promotes the fact that you're a locksmith with limited spelling skills, it seems you'd at least put your business name and phone number on your door. Heck, even I would. Perhaps he's Lancelot Link, the Secret Loksmif. But then, why go with the vanity plate? I tell you, I am easily puzzled.
Here's an item that doesn't puzzle me particularly, but pleasantly surprised me. I have always loved the scent of the flowers of the linden tree, dating to encountering them when walking the walls of York in England. (OK, I loved the one that used to be on the Horseshoe at the University of South Carolina, too, but that sounds so much less exotic.) I always wondered if it could be made into tea, along the lines of jasmine. And now I find, in of all places discount grocer (and near Aldi clone) Sav-A-Lot, linden (or tilo) tea bags. And so I ask my readers if any of you (either of you) have ever tried this? I'm... thinking about it. Maybe it'll be good for brain go byebye.
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