I have been at the darn bank a lot lately. The last few years, I have avoided the bank like poison. If I need cash, I get it at the grokkery store and there’s only one bill I pay by check and that’s the property tax bill and that’s only because I don’t like that particular on-line payment system. Don’t ask. (Kalamazoo College also did not take plastic. I had to send checks to a lock box. Wonder if that’s changed yet…)

This morning’s bank errand? Totally bizarre. Someone around here has been carrying a rather large wad of cash around for quite some time. An envelope full of nice, crisp hundred dollar bills. This fact came to light last evening during a discussion about having enough money in the checking account at the time the aforementioned property tax bill was due. Say what!! Let’s get that into the bank! And then I was just a wee bit freaked out about how to actually *get* it into the bank. The money was from an innocent enough source. The GG sold our beloved old Dogha to someone who paid cash. Somehow I still felt like a drug dealer making the deposit. I mean, who the heck carries large sums of cash around any more. I have colorful plastic cards and on a good day, I have enough cash to buy a cup of coffee.

And so, it is still hot here. I don’t even know why I wrote that. Why bother. We are under some kind of “heat dome” or something. It could be a while and I will make myself remember this when it is 10 below zero next winter. If it were 10-15 degrees cooler and it was not the eve of the Planet Ann Arbor Art Fair(s), we would’ve walked downtown for dinner on the eve of our annual launch from the swampiness of summer in the southeast corner of the Great Lake State to the swampiness of the moominbeach. (The moominbeach has a swamp behind it but this summer it has also been hot and swampy.)

Too hot and too far and probably too many people. We trucked over to Knight’s instead. Knight’s was pretty crowded too but somehow we managed to get one of our coveted tables on the balcony. I think it may be the first time I have ever gone out to dinner with an empty grokkery bag tucked under my arm. Because, after dinner, we detoured to the Plum Market to buy some stuff to eat in the Frog Hopper on the way to Houghton Lake tomorrow night. Well, that is we detoured to the Plum *after* we hit the party store. The one that I always fergit is there. The errand there tonight was cee-gars (fer the GG, not fer yer fav-o-rite blahgger) but I noticed that they had what looked like quite a large selection of fancy beers and 10-High too.

I can handle the GG smoking an occasional cee-gar*. After all, Grandroobly used to indulge in those from time to time. I am glad that I didn’t marry a member of the Copenhagen Chewers of America. If I am remembering accurately, there were quite a few of those in my high school. I mentioned the CCA to the liqwire store clerk and she looked at me like “eeee-yew” until I winked and said, “those were the study hall guys” and then she cracked up. I had a study hall in my schedule in freshman year and I HATED IT! Sheesh! I could do my homework in about 15 minutes and then I had to sit there for the whole rest of the hour. It was in our creaky old high school auditorium and we had assigned seats that were like five or six seats and a couple rows from anyone else. Which… Was okay because I didn’t want to sit with any of those people anyway. Somebody in there actually once told me I looked like B-witch…

End of fire drill day #1.

* It’s the ensuing spitting that I can’t stand!

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