And she argued with me!

    Went to lunch buffet with Paul to our favored Indian restaurant. It was very, very good. Also almost free. My bill came to almost $10. I went to the register and held out a ten. The young lady gave me back a ten and change. For a second I thought about keeping quiet and walking on, but she's very nice and I'm not so rotten either. I told her that I had given her a ten and she argued with me, not obstreperously or anything, but she said I had given her a twenty. I said that I didn't think I had a twenty. (Having just checked before walking up, I knew perfectly well that I hadn't.) She checked and found that I had indeed given her a ten and I gave her the other ten back, and thanked me for telling her. Did you hear that God? That ought to wipe out at least a couple of the rotten things I've done.

Mulled pancakes

    Aldi has been really great this past year or so about selling more and more gluten-free products. This being Aldi, of course, they do have a tendency to bring them out as special items, then they go away, and then they come back. The good part is that thus far they have come back. One thing that comes and goes is pancake mix. Sometimes it's marketed as such; currently it's sold as gluten-free flour, but the only recipe on the box is for pancakes. (Note to Aldi: That makes it pancake mix.) Thing is, though, whatever they call it, it's terrible. Everything else they sell (as far as I know; a lot of it has dairy or soy so I can't sample) as gluten-free is great except this.
    I know it seems like another stupid thing to complain about, but you've got to realize that in Gluten-Free World, everything costs more. A LOT more. And while it might feel reasonable to pay a premium for something exotic like say gluten-free lutefisk (if there's any gluten in actual lutefisk, just don't tell me), it's super extra annoying to pay extra for something as simple and dumb as pancake mix. The great thing about Aldi's GF offerings is that they are generally priced to move, although still not cheap.
    Mind you, if I used regular milk instead of unsweetened almond milk, the pancakes might be better. But I don't know. There's a consistently nasty aftertaste that more sweetness probably wouldn't help. Regardless, the other day I had a baking apple surplus to requirements so I cored it, threw it in the blender and added it to the pancake mix recipe. I also added some honey, some Ceylon cinnamon and some cloves. It made for runny pancakes, but they were much improved. Today, I did the same only without the apple. I'd like to say they were the best darn pancakes I've ever eaten, but that would be a stretch. However, they were perfectly acceptable pancakes with no nasty aftertaste and I'll take that all day every day. See how easy it is to make me happy?
    (I could write out the recipe, but I winged it. I followed package directions, halved, adding about a tablespoon of honey and perhaps a teaspoon each of cloves and Ceylon cinnamon. And I mention it because if you ever run up against a pancake mix that doesn't taste so good, or if you're working with unsweetened almond milk, this will likely help, gluten-free or not.)

Since

    I've probably mentioned it before, but it still makes me crazy. There ought to be a way to fix this! Businesses advertize "Locally owned since 1966," and would-be standup comics like me always say something like, "Well what was it before?" Again again again again, I realize that this isn't the most important question facing the world at this moment, but there ought to be a fix. I think it's something to do with all the verb tenses and moods that English has dropped over the centuries; I bet they don't have this problem in French! Or maybe people just need bigger signs. "Locally owned since our founding in 1966" seems to do it, or the equivalent, "Founded in 1966, locally owned ever since." Of course, my preference would be "Locally owned since 1966, before that run by The Mob." That's certainly what MY business sign will say!
    Seriously(ish), the missing words are implied, but not well. The solution would be to put them on the sign, but tiny:
Locally
owned
since
(You'll have to imagine this line is tiny since I can't choose font size) our founding in
1966
And now I'm happy.

Temporary reinstatement of emergency procedures

    First question is why am I sitting at a laptop plugged into the wall during a thunderstorm. A: Because I'm dumb. Any further questions?
    We had a severe thunderstorm warning this afternoon, and the clouds to match, so I pulled out an old trick. My neighborhood has a lot of trees, but unfortunately relatively few shade the streets where one does most of one's walking. Thus, I normally do my daily walk in other places, driving to get there I'm ashamed to say. However, when Dad or Margaret were in poor health or likely to need me, I would walk around the neighborhood instead, making it a point to go no farther than a block or two from home at my farthest or is that furthest point.
    Did that today and even though I beat the rain completely, I felt pretty smart when it came later and in torrents. And it occurred to me that even in this current life, with no hope, romance, point, purpose or prospects, it's still neat that I no longer have to be tied to one or two blocks from home most of the time. The prospect of getting my old breezy happy-go-lucky self back some day soon seems more plausible than previously. Especially if I get my hands off this keyboard while the thunder is still shaking the house!

Clapping at the DMV

    Don't start with me. I'm finally getting around to changing the cars out of my Dad's name. This is not nearly so straightforward as I was hoping. I went to the actual DMV headquarters (which is a freaking palace; if you're in central SC, you should go just to goggle) instead of the office up the road from me which is much much more busy. I got the forms I need and much needed direction and a certain begrudging courtesy. The lady who waited on me was very curt but that's ok; so am I. She said, "Driver's license!" then realized that since I was handling an estate I might be rich and added, "please."
    The rest of the staff, when they had helped somebody, would break out into applause. It was sort of like state government's answer to Moe's or Outback Steaks. Slightly surreal. My lady wasn't so much into the applause, but that was ok, too. I appreciated the help anyway.

I'm still dreaming; this is bad

    So I dreamed that the brother whom I never see anymore and I were living in some odd group home/ dormitory setting where we didn't know anyone. I noticed that all my personal property except for my keys were missing. I was trying to look for them but I hit a button and suddenly we were in a kind of video game and we teleported somehow into a car, driving. We went by my parents' house. They were both still alive and in command of their faculties. They too were living with a lot of people whom I at least didn't know. My parents and the other residents were all gathered around the front door, looking out at the street while the second floor of their house was burning. My brother and I had to go to work. I said, "Wait, our parents are dead, I must still be dreaming; this isn't going to be good." But we went off to work. I don't remember details, but it wasn't good. And THAT'S why you don't read William Gibson before going to bed!

Dreams nice and frustrating, respectively

    The nice one was very nice. To start with, Dad and Margaret were fully healthy. They were not living in a nursing home, but were instead helping out there, volunteering to assist the residents. But the nicer part, perhaps, was that I kept almost calling Margaret "mom," as in "Dad and Mom" instead of "Dad and Margaret." So I finally just told her that sooner or later I would accidentally call her that, so she might as well be ready. I think she was pleased.
    The frustrating dream was kind of amusing, though. Paul and I were walking about the countryside and there were fences everywhere. We were talking about the apocalypse, hoping that before humans exited we would tear down all these darn fences so that the animals could get around OK. Then we went to a pizza place. There the barrier theme continued (as well as the apocalyptic one, depending how you feel about pizza). There were glass partitions that you couldn't get past to get to where you order. Paul climbed over. I managed to find a spot where I could squeeze between. The space was maybe an inch wide. In real life, I'm at least probably at least six inches thick, but hey, it's a dream. Maybe I disarticulated. Never did get any darn pizza.