Tonight I went for a walk and bought some cherries. →[More:]
I have enough for a pie, but I like 'em straight up. I thought I'd missed the rest of cherry season. Passing the Top Tomato, I didn't see them. (They've been on my mind ever since my mom sang "Cherries are Ripe" on our answering machine a few weeks ago.) They were on a bottom shelf in back. $2.49 a pound. Not bad. I eyed the brussel sprouts, too, but I have to save something for tomorrow.
After being horribly sick with what I can only describe as "angry belly" for almost a week, it's good to be back amongst the living. On the plus side, a small amount of food now fills me up and I (almost) fit into my wedding jeans.
I swear it's only been a couple weeks at most since I last strolled down Ditmars, yet so much has changed. One of the local restaurants is now also a comedy club. And there's a new tattoo parlor. I did a double-take going by, leaning back and mumbling,
Where the heck did that come from? A bald proprietor in back looked up expectantly. (I have been thinking about getting a dragonfly tattoo on my left wrist.) There was also a new "Parrot Gourmet European Mediterranean Organic Coffee and Market" (I half expected to see "Rides & Tickets" on the awning). Martha's Bakery now has sidewalk tables, which were packed, and Taverna Salerno, which I must try, had twenty people waiting on a Thursday night, and there's a tiny, elegant sushi place of interest, too. I flashed on a new ending for my short story and watched an old barber shake his finger at a young guy in a smock who nodded and smiled at him. It was a good walk.