Puppy Day minus 10

In one of Dorothy Sayers' essays, she speaks of the concept of "being on the wrong bus". She objects strongly to this: "In the eyes of God and the London Transit Authority, it is a perfectly good bus, going on its appointed rounds. It happens to have a wrong passenger." (Or words to that effect.) With that in mind, suffice it to say that last night I was a wrong passenger.

I blame no one. The situation at the stop was a confusing one, blended from a tired and stressed driver, a misleading sign, and a number of very cold would-be riders. At any rate, instead of the counterclockwise bus that would have borne me home, I found myself on the clockwise bus, headed for the transit center. Worse, most of the buses were by this time out of service, and the one I was on was half an hour overdue for that status. Fortunately for me, the driver asked for and received permission to make one last run, taking me to my stop and returning. (In my experience, Madison County Transit bus drivers are uniformly polite, friendly, and kind, despite the stereotypes.)

This week I didn't feel like working from a recipe and making a big, all-week dish. Instead I bought a bunch of Stuff: things that I could whip up into any of several comfortable dishes without much planning, time, or effort. Eggs, potatoes, green peppers, a hunk of cheddar, bacon, mushrooms... I fixed bacon and fried potatoes yesterday, and I'm thinking about an omelette for today.

Ten more days....